A Wandering Boy
by LeeMarieJack
Summary: Castiel discovers a new way to stop the apocalypse. He delivers a 10 year old Dean to an adult Sam and manages to skip the entire disaster. God is pleased with his most faithful Angel. Lucifer and the God Squad are completely bamboozled. A De-aged Dean / Daddy Sam story.-eventual Sastiel
1. Chapter 1 - Out of Nowhere

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

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**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 1

**Out of Nowhere**

Sam Winchester was sitting on the concrete walk outside his motel room, long legs extended, enjoying the sun on his face and the smell of the country air. His back was braced against the outer wall of the old motel, a whetstone in his left hand and a wicked looking knife in his right. As he stroked the blade against the stone the rhythm sang of competence and long practice. He almost didn't need to look at what he was doing. The sharpening of the tools of his trade was second nature after years of practice.

Long, tall and classically handsome the young Hunter was at ease in his skin. For years he had fought against his nature, trying to leave 'the life' behind. After a couple of semesters of college he had learned that although his mind said it wanted 'normal' and 'safe', deep inside he knew he was living a lie.

He made friends; he found a girl. He studied hard and earned the praise of his teachers. All the while, however, something was dying deep inside. Finally he understood that what was dying was Sam Winchester, his true being. He came to understand that all the play pretend he was living was a lie. He was creating the person he thought he ought to be instead of learning to live with the person he really was.

One Friday afternoon he finally decided to face up to the truth. The following Monday he was scheduled for an appointment that would hand him the rest of his pretend life on a plate. He could let Sam Winchester die and follow that path. The empty years stretched out ahead. He would pass the bar, join a prestigious firm, marry Jess and have 2.5 kids and a yellow dog. All it would cost would be his soul.

He walked away and never looked back. To everyone he had come to know during the Stanford years, he simply disappeared from the face of the Earth.

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Sam and Carson Wyne, a young Hunter Bobby Singer asked Sam to train as a favor, had been clearing the manitous of various animals out of the Black Hills National Park lands. The Cheyanne shamans had left the spirits behind to protect the tribe's territories when the American cavalry came to chase them off their lands a hundred years before. The hungry animal spirits had been left to wander the lands, destroying those foolish enough to walk the hills or the Badlands alone without spiritual protection.

Sam used the same rites to calm and banish the spirits that the shamans had used to raise them a century before. With sage and other burning herbs, with chants and songs and the beating of the blessed ceremonial drums the seasoned hunter had sent the manitous back into the earth.

Sam was a professional who had learned his skills from his father and then from Bobby Singer. Singer's teachings worked better with the earth spirit forms as he treated them with respect. John Winchester's answer to everything was violence.

His son did not see the world with such hatred and consequently became more than his father ever could be. Now this young Hunter was trusted to train even younger Hunters and a new spirit was gradually spreading through the Hunting communities. The old 'it's not human, kill it' mantra was slowly changing to 'if it's evil we kill it' and the spiritual and the physical sides of existence were growing closer together.

Sam's way was proving to be the better way to hunt. His hunts resulted in fewer injuries and shorter hunts with better long term results. If something deserved to be killed Sam didn't hesitate. A human death was often proof enough for both Sam and the old time Hunters. When Sam left an area the area was generally pacified and did not fester into a new manifestation. The old style Hunts often left a smear of evil behind that grew back into a new eruption of corruption in a decade or two.

Sam had become content with his decision. The sound of his honing blended into the evening hush as he relaxed. Carson had gone out to buy them some dinner and Sam Winchester's world was humming along in just the way he liked.

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There were light footsteps on the gravel lot and Sam looked up to see a figure emerging out of the setting sun. Illuminated from the back Sam could only discern a small figure and it took him a moment to decide that the glowing figure was that of a child. As the child came closer Sam could see that it appeared to be a rather beautiful boy with golden curling hair and large green eyes. Full pouting lips and a splash of freckles completed a face that was sure to draw attention both now and in the future.

The boy was dressed in denim jeans with a soft white shirt flapping in the evening breeze. He wore sensible boots for a South Dakota fall but had no jacket to protect him from the wind. His fists were stuffed in to his jeans' pockets as far as they would go and his shoulders were hunched against the evening chill.

He stopped in front of Sam. "Hello," he said in a child's lilting voice. "Are you Sam Winchester?"

Sam put his knife into the wrist holder and put his whetstone into his jacket pocket. He stood up, towering over the small boy and said "Yes, I'm Sam. Who are you?"

"You're a big one, aren't you?" the boy replied, thrusting his chin out as if to prove that he wasn't intimidated by Sam's size. He shivered and Sam took off his jacket and wrapped it around the child's shoulders.

"Come on," Sam said. "Come in and let's sit down and talk."

The child's eyes narrowed. "You aren't going to try any funny stuff, are you? The nerdy guy said it would be alright and that I shouldn't be afraid of you."

Sam smiled. "The nerdy guy? Who's that?" He wrapped a gentle hand around the boy's back and led the child to his open motel room door. Once inside Sam cleared some of his research papers from the table and pulled up a chair for the little boy.

"Ok now?" Sam said quietly and the little boy nodded after he climbed onto the chair. Sam went over to the coffee pot and poured a cup.

"Can I have some of that?" the boy asked.

"Really?" Sam's eyebrows rose. "You want some coffee?"

"Please," the kid muttered. "With milk. And do you have anything to eat?"

Sam shrugged and made up a cup of milky coffee. He glanced around the somewhat bare counter and his eyes fell on a box of Carson's crackers. He brought both items to the table and sat down.

"I've given you what you wanted. How about you tell me your name now?" Sam smiled again at the kid

"I don't know." The boy replied munching his way through a couple of crackers, spraying crumbs.

"You don't know your name? Sam repeated. "How is that possible?"

The kid sipped at his coffee flavored milk and curled his nose up. "This is cold." He handed the cup back to Sam. Sam rose and added a little more warm coffee and gave it back.

"Why don't you just start at the beginning and tell me what you do know." Sam suggested.

"I was standing on the other side of the road with the nerdy guy and he pointed at you and said that you were Sam Winchester and I belonged with you." The kid dug into the box for more crackers. "I don't remember much before that. I know some stuff like words and sometimes I recognize things like your T.V. and your pretty Impala outside but I don't know why I know those things."

Sam sat back and considered just what he was looking at. The first thing he did was get a glass and pour a slug of holy water for the kid to drink. He handed the glass to the boy.

"You aren't trying to drug me, or anything, are you?" the kid asked suspiciously. Sam countered by drinking a sip of the water himself then motioning for the boy to drink up. Nothing happened.

Sam handed the boy his silver knife and the boy's skin stayed clear. Next he asked the boy to nick a finger just a little bit, just enough to make the finger bleed.

"Why would I cut myself? That would hurt." The boy pouted.

"It's a kind of a test." Sam replied. "It means I can trust what you have to say."

"Weird," the child said. "But OK. Will you get me something more to eat if I do it?" Sam laughed at the little bargain.

"You can have anything I've got except the beer." Sam replied. "Deal?"

The boy passed the extremely sharp knife over a fingertip and several drops of blood splashed on to the table. "Damn," he cried. "That thing is sharp. I didn't mean to cut that much. You got a band aide?"

Sam decided that the child was what he appeared to be. No demon had ever asked Sam for a band aide before.

After getting the requested item from the first aid kit Sam returned to the table only to find the kid was ransacking the countertop cabinets and the mini refrigerator.

"What a cheat," the boy complained. "You don't have anything except some milk and a can of off brand soda. Is there a vending machine? Can you go get me some chips?"

Just then Carson entered their room carrying their evening meal.

"Hi Sam," Carson said. "Who's your new friend?" Carson was a fresh faced kid of around eighteen and he brought no feeling of danger into the room but Sam saw the little boy tense up. The boy got off the chair and slid it around so that the back was against the wall and climbed back up. Now the little boy could watch both men at once.

"We're trying to determine just who our little friend is," Sam replied. "So far we haven't made much headway. I know he likes coffee and he ate most of your crackers."

Carson sat down and distributed the food, ripping the top off his container and creating a plate for the boy. Both Hunters contributed portions of their meal and the boy's eyes got big. "That's for me?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "You were telling me about the nerdy guy."

The boy stuffed some French fries in his mouth. "Ok, like I said I was standing with him on the other side of the road. I don't know where I came from or if I had always been with him but he told me that I belonged with you and he pushed me into the road. I kept going until I walked up to you."

"What did the guy look like other than just nerdy?" Sam asked.

"Well, he wasn't as tall as you but he was taller than your friend here," the boy replied pointing at Carson. "He was an old guy, maybe even thirty or something."

"Ancient, then" Sam said with a straight face.

The little boy glared as if he knew that Sam was amused. "Yeah, that's what I said. He was dressed like a lawyer on T.V. but he had his tie all messed up. It was like he had tied it wrong and it kept flipping over and showing the back. He was wearing a funny long coat like a raincoat but it was tan. I saw a coat like that once on T.V. Some one-eyed cop always wore one but I don't remember what it's called." He stopped to stuff more French fries in his mouth.

Carson spoke up. "Colombo, do you mean Colombo? He squinted all the time because he had one glass eye and he always wore a ratty old trench coat. Is that who you mean?"

The boy nodded his head. "Yeah, that was the name, Colombo and you call it a trench coat?"

"Well this guy with me had one of those coats but it was all new and clean. Strange though, it always kept blowing around even when there wasn't any wind. He had black hair and really, really blue eyes and all he said to me was that I belonged to Sam Winchester and that Sam Winchester would keep me safe from the demons and the Angels."

Sam took a deep breath and so did Carson. "I'm supposed to keep you safe from demons? That's what the nerdy guy said?" Sam repeated.

"The demons and the Angels." The boy replied. "He was pushy about that. He made me repeat it; the demons and the Angels, both of them."

"There are no such things as Angels," Sam said softly.


	2. Chapter 2 - I See Spirits

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

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**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 2

**I See Spirits**

"Hey, I 'm not arguing with you "the kid said. "I'm just telling you what the nerdy guy said. He told me that Sam Winchester would keep me safe from the demons and the Angels. You gonna finish those fries?"

Sam pushed the rest of his fries over to the human garbage disposal. "Well, keeping you safe from Angels is going to be easier than keeping you fed." Sam laughed. "You look like you might turn out to be a kind of expensive present."

He green eyed boy wrinkled his nose. "Hey, I'm a growing boy. I need food. You're already done growing, I hope. If you get any bigger we might be able to rent you out to the circus."

"All this and a smart mouth too," Sam replied.

Carson laughed out loud and made bubbles in his coke through the straw. "Are you two sure you're not related?"

"Never saw him before." they replied simultaneously. Carson raised his eyebrows. "Now, that was strange." he said.

Sam stood up to throw away his trash. "Well, I 'm going to call you Dean. You need a name other than hey you, kid."

"Why Dean?' the boy asked.

"I'm naming you after my grandmother, Deanna." Sam replied.

"I don't want to be named after some chick!" Dean growled back.

"The nerdy guy said you belonged to me, didn't he?" Sam answered back. "You're lucky I'm calling you Dean. I could call you Dog Shit if I wanted to. And my grandmother wasn't some chick. Shut your mouth."

Dean huffed and folded his arms.

Carson was cleaning up his dinner too. "Not that this hasn't been fun but what are we going to do with Dean while we drive out to the Badlands and take care of the last of the Manitous?"

Sam thought about the question. He turned to Dean "Are you sure you don't live around here, kid?"

"I don't even know where here is," Dean replied. "What's this Badlands stuff and what's a Manitou?"

Sam pulled out his laptop. "Hold on for a couple of minutes, Carson. I'm going to see if there are any police alerts out for missing kids in the area. We don't want to get arrested for kidnapping. Keep an eye on him for me."

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Dean and Carson stepped outside leaving Sam engrossed in his computer. It was a nice evening, although a little cool. Dean hadn't given Sam back his jacket so he was warm.

"You really don't know your name?" Carson asked.

"My memory's as smooth as a baby's bottom." Dean replied. "My head is just waiting to be filled up with whatever crap rolls by. It would be nice to feel like I know what's going on but I don't. I don't know who I am. I don't know who that nerdy guy was and I don't know why he wanted to give me to Gigantor in there. I don't know squat."

"Huh," Carson grunted. "Well, don't stress about it. If you just relax if might all come back to you. Maybe you were in an accident and hit your head."

"Maybe nerdy guy drugged me." Dean decided to play 'what if' along with Carson.

"Maybe you ran away from home and the stress gave you amnesia." Carson suggested.

"Maybe I was abducted by aliens and they stole my life and left me beside the road. Maybe nerdy guy was really an alien." Dean matched Carson maybe for maybe.

Carson eyed the kid. "Maybe you're just pretending for free food."

"Maybe you should shut up now before I lose my temper." Dean responded.

"Maybe you both should shut up." Another voice joined their game and Sam was standing behind them in the doorway. "I've checked in a 500 mile radius and no one has reported the loss of a smart mouthed, green eyed boy so I guess you're mine."

"That's just great. You want to get me a collar and a dog license?" Dean was still on a snark kick.

Sam rolled his eyes. "This is going to be so much fun. Come help empty out the room. Carson and I have some business to attend to and then I'm taking you to Sioux Falls to visit a friend of ours. Move it."

Sam turned around and re-entered the room.

"So now I'm a Sherpa." Dean grumbled.

Carson eyed the kid. "You know, for someone who claims not to know who he is or where he's from you sure do have a smart mouth."

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All loaded up with Carson in shotgun and Dean in the back seat Sam pulled the Impala out of the Rapid City motel and headed first for a Hunter's supply on the outskirts of town, disguised as a crystal shop. San need to pick up new inventory for his spells and he knew the owner would have what he needed. Dean roamed the aisles while Sam and Carson huddled with the owner. Dean looked at crystals and pyramids and charms and books on how to get in touch with your spiritual side. He glanced back at Sam Winchester double checking. No, the big guy wasn't a hippy. He knew something else was going on. Sam didn't look like a stoner either. He put the question away for later.

They headed out to the South Dakota Badlands seventy five miles East on Interstate 90. In a few hours they were driving the Loop Road through the park. The park had highly eroded buttes and spires sharply outlined against the stark cerulean blue sky. Washing up against the red formations was a sea of mixed prairie grass where the buffalo herds once grazed. Now it was antelope that roamed the park. The park service was re-introducing buffalo but it would be a while before the tourists would see herds of the huge beasts roaming free again.

Driving through near the end of the Loop almost right up against the base of a formation of spires Dean suddenly called out from the backseat. "Hey, is that a buffalo? I thought they were brown."

Sam looked around at the empty landscape. "I don't see any buffalo. What are you looking at Dean?"

Dean leaned forward over the front bench seat and pointed at one of the rock formations. "It's right on top of those rocks. A big assed buffalo standing there bold as anything. Can't you see it? Why is it all white?

Sam carefully pulled off to the side of the road. He and Carson looked at each other. Sam turned around to look at Dean. "You see a white buffalo standing on top of those rocks?" The Hunter asked quietly.

"Sure." Dean replied. "Can't you see it? I don't know how you could miss it. It's huge"

Sam and Carson got out of the car and Sam opened Dean's door. "Come with us Dean," Sam said. "I want to get as close to this white buffalo as we can. You should know that you are the only one of us who can see it."

"What's going on, Sam?" Carson asked. "What's the kid seeing?"

"I believe our friend Dean here Is seeing the buffalo Manitou." Sam replied. "If he can see these things without the benefit of the summoning this hunt can go a lot faster than I expected."

Dean twisted his arm out of Sam's hand. "OK, Jolly Green," Dean snapped. "That's it. I want to know exactly what you people are talking about. What's a Manitou? Why are you hunting it? How come you can't see the thing when it's right in front of you? I'm not going to play ball until somebody tells me what's going on."

Sam sat down with the kid and laid it all out. First he explained what a Hunter with a capital "H" was. No they didn't go around shooting Bambi's mother. They fought the Supernatural.

"You're shitting me." The kid said. "You guys go around hunting ghosts? You're nuts. People run away from ghosts. Or they would if there were any such things as ghosts. You're just trying to scare me."

Sam went on, explaining that ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and an entire host of things were real and that Hunters protected people from them.

"OK," Dean said. "Let's pretend for a minute that you aren't completely crazy. What's this all got to do with that white buffalo up there on that rock? How come I can see it and you can't?"

"I think you are seeing the Manitou of the sacred buffalo." Sam said. "The Manitou was summoned here a hundred years ago as the tribes that lived on these lands were chased away by the American Army. This was supposed to be a reservation, granted to the tribes by Washington but gold was discovered in the Black Hills and treaties were broken. The tribes were either driven away or massacred. Their shamans left the Manitous to revenge the deaths of innocents."

"I am trying to put these spirits down," Sam said. "They are continuing today to hurt and kill people and they have to be stopped. I have to do a whole ritual to allow me to see the spirits so that I can send them back into the earth. For some reason, and, no, I don't know why, you seem to be able to see them without the ritual."

"Great." The kid stood up and kicked at the dirt, raising a little puff of dust. "I don't know who I am, I don't know why I'm here and evidently I can see these spirit things. I hate my life."

"Look, Dean," Sam said in a reasonable tone. "You help me put the Manitous down tonight and I'll try and help you either find your family or at least get you some place safe. I'll take you to my friend Bobby. He's old and really smart. I bet he'll help you figure this whole thing out."

Dean glared at Sam. "Don't talk down to me. I'm not some little kid. Fine, I'll help you with your magic stuff and then we pay attention to my problems. Deal?"

Later that night the two Hunters and Dean trekked back into the park. At the base of the eroded spire Sam mixed his herbs, lit them on fire and Carson beat the spirit drum. Dean was their guide and pointed out the Manitou as it moved down the face of the rocks. When the spirit moved towards them Sam rose up and pushed Dean behind him and faced the spirit. The tall Hunter chanted the ancient words and blew the burning herbs into the face of the angry Manitou. The great beast slowed and seemed to listen to the long lost sounds of the drum and the chant. Its eyes closed and the heavy head swung from side to side, listening to a world that passed away a century ago. Slowly the beast sank into the earth and only the wind remained.

"Cool," Dean whispered. "That was great, Sam. Will you teach me how to do that?"

Sam shook his head. "Let's pack up and get out of here before the Rangers spot us. Dean, you take point and keep an eye out for anything strange. Sing out if you spot something."

They hiked back out of the park without further incident and got back in the Impala. Sam elected to start driving east to Sioux Falls while Carson and Dean slept

It was just slightly less than three hundred miles to Sioux Falls. Sam and Carson agreed that Sam would take the first one hundred and fifty miles then Carson would take over at Chamberlain when they crossed the Missouri river and drive the rest of the way to Singer Salvage. Without pushing too hard they would arrive at Bobby's front gate just about sunrise.

Under the starry dark Dakota sky the Impala hummed down Interstate 90, her headlights piercing the dark road ahead. The state began to flatten out the further east they went, the entire state slanting slightly downhill from the foothills to the flood plains of the Missouri. The land was empty of all except hunting owls and the occasional mournful howl of coyotes far off in the grass.

Just after dawn the Impala rumbled down the road, heading for the Singer Salvage Yard's arched gate; a lovely thing built of reclaimed wrought iron scrap with two scavenged Gargoyles, Tiem and Zan, decorating the columns. Carson was at the wheel but the piercing early morning sun had done its job and awakened both Sam and Dean.

Just as Carson was making the turn into Bobby's driveway Dean let out a screech from the back seat. "Son of a bitch! Nerdy guy! It's nerdy guy!"

Sam startled then turned around. "Language, Dean!" he barked then absorbed exactly what had come after the expletive." "Nerdy guy? Where?"

"He's right over there, by the big honking tree." Dean pointed in excitement and Sam saw a man in a tan trench coat almost hidden in the shade of an ancient oak beside the road.

"Carson, stop!" Sam barked and then was out of the car almost before it stopped moving. Carson pulled to the side of the driveway and looked back over his shoulder. Dean was on his knees peering out the back window and bouncing around like a ping pong ball.

"You two stay in the car." Sam ordered. "I mean it. If either of you move I'll knock you on your ass."

"OK, boss." Carson answered back. "I'll keep an eye on the kid."

"Hey, you, buddy!" Sam hollered, crossing the road. "Hold on. I want to talk to you."

The closer Sam got the more he realized that the man standing beside the road was unnaturally calm. Here Sam was a six and a half foot tall man obviously angry and striding over the road coming straight for trench coat guy and the guy didn't even bother to blink. The man stood there as still as the oak he was under, calm, quiet and unimpressed.

Sam got within reaching distance and stopped. He saw that Dean's description, nerdy guy, was very fitting. The man looked like an accountant or a guy from the IRS. He looked like had seen it all and very little impressed him anymore. He was close to six feet tall with messy black hair and had eyes bluer than the morning sky. He tilted his head to the side, like a bird studying an unexpectedly aggressive worm.

"Sam Winchester?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm Sam Winchester. Who are you?"

Nerdy guy unexpectedly put out a hand flush against Sam chest. "I am Castiel," he said and a burning sensation shot through Sam's chest and shoulders, wrapping around his back and taking his breath away.

"What the hell!?" Sam gasped and tried to knock the man's hand away. He might as well have tried to knock over the oak tree. The man didn't flinch and his arm never moved. Slowly the pain in Sam's chest began to ebb.

"What did you do to me? What are you?" Sam was ready to fight.

"Be calm, Sam Winchester," the man intoned in a deep gravelly voice. "I have done you no harm. I simply have given you another gift."

"Well, thanks a lot. Now what did you do to me and are you the one that dropped the kid on me?" Sam was slowly recovering his breath after the unexpected pain. At least he was still standing, much to his surprise. He heard the car door open and he turned to see Carson getting out of the Impala.

"Carson, get your ass back in the car." Sam yelled. "It's fine. I'm OK.'

Carson waved and got back in the car.

"You said your name as Castiel?" Sam asked. "Well, Mr. Castiel, tell me what's going on here."

"Sam Winchester, I don't have a lot of time, so listen," Castiel looked around as if he expected someone to jump out of the bushes. "I am an Angel of the Lord."

"Bullshit." Sam responded. "There are no such things."

"I must hurry. Please do not interrupt again. I can't be found here." A shadow passed over the sun and thunder rumbled in the distance. For just a moment Sam thought he saw the outline of huge, dark wings slowly extend from the man's back.

"OK," Sam muttered. "I'll go with that. What do you need to tell me?"

Sam also heard Carson and Dean's voices raised in excitement in the Impala. Evidently they had seen Castiel's show and tell also.

"Dean must be protected from not only demons but also from other Angels of the Lord." Castiel quickly rattled off.

"Other angels? " Sam repeated. "How do you know I named him Dean?"

"Please, Sam. I'm running out of time. If I am captured the entire plan will fall into ruin." Castiel backed further into the shadow of the oak. He pulled Sam along with him.

"I called him Dean because that is his name. I have brought him here for protection. There is a war in heaven. An angelic faction wants to capture Dean to send him into hell.' Castiel didn't even stop for a breath. "Don't interrupt. Just remember. The pain that you felt was me carving an Enochian sigil into your ribs. Dean already has his own. The sigil hides you from both Angels and demons. I think you will find it useful."

Castiel reached out to touch Sam again and Sam tensed up, expecting more pain. "Good," Castiel muttered. "You are clean. No demon blood. The plan is already working."

Again the Angel glanced around. "I really must go. Heaven is beginning to notice my presence. I will try to speak to you again soon. Tell Bobby Singer to ward his house against Angels. He will understand. Discuss our conversation with the man. He will help you with these concepts."

Castiel was there and then he was gone. There was a rustle as of large wings and Sam was alone.

Before Sam could turn around Castiel came back. "I forgot. Now that you are protected I cannot find you either. If you want to talk to me again find and leave a cell phone somewhere hidden," the Angel looked around.

"Put the phone on the back of one of the gargoyles and program your number and Bobby's into it. I'll find it. You can always call and leave a message. I'll call you back." Once again the Angel disappeared and along with the rustle of wings, Sam felt a slight breeze and smelled the scent of roses.


	3. Chapter 3 - Daddy Dearest?

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

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**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 3

**Daddy Dearest?**

Sam stood in the shade of the ancient oak with his mouth open. Fine, he'd just met an Angel. OK, Angels were real so an adjustment to his world view was necessary. However, an Angel with a cell phone? That went beyond a mere adjustment; he was into a full paradigm shift now.

Questions buzzed through his brain. Angels knew about cell phones? There were Angelic political factions in Heaven? The trench coat guy, Castiel, was hiding out from a celestial lynch mob? Why would nerdy Angel find it necessary to check Sam for demon blood? Freaking demon blood!

He was getting a headache. Glancing back at the car Sam remembered the kid. All this crap was just too much. Maybe Bobby could help sort it out.

Sam headed back to the Impala and pulled opened the driver's door.

"Scoot over, Carson." Sam said. "I need to get to Bobby." Getting behind the wheel gave Sam back a sense of being in control. At least he knew how to handle the Impala. No surprises there, it started right up. All the buzzing in his head began to recede, like water going down a drain.

The tall man pulled back on to the driveway. Just as he felt things settling down a chattering voice from the back seat interrupted thoughts. "What did nerdy guy want? What did he say? Did he tell you who I am? Where did I come from?" Dean was bouncing around sounding like Alvin the Chipmunk, talking too fast and way too high.

Sam glanced in the rear view mirror and got a face full of green eyes and freckles.

"You settle down," he grumbled. "Sit on your butt and be quiet. If you tear up my upholstery you're going to regret it."

Dean sat down and folded his arms. With a sniff and a huff he clearly expressed his opinion of Sam's orders and pointedly turned his head and stared out the side window.

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Moments later they pulled up at the bottom of Bobby's steps. The grizzled Hunter stood on the porch, as usual, shotgun in his arms and Rottweiler at his side. The Impala was close enough to recognize but Bobby's mantra was always, 'better safe than sorry."

He waited for Sam and Carson to get out, just as he expected but when the back door opened and a tousled head full of blonde curls just cleared the edge of the window Bobby was surprised.

Sam walked around the back of the car and captured the little boy who was about to make a break for the steps.

"Whoa," Sam said. "Introductions first."

The little boy leaned his head back and looked all the way up into Sam's hazel eyes. "You're holding my hand too tight, Jolly Green." The kid tried to shake Sam's hand off his arm. "Loosen up or I'm going to start hollering for a rescue."

Sam snorted. "Good luck with that, kid."

"Child abuse, child abuse!" Dean started howling. He glanced up to see if the guy on the porch was going for it.

Bobby laughed out loud. "Who's your little hellion, Sam?" he called down to the Hunter. Sam jerked is chin up and Bobby turned and disappeared into the house. Dean was still making noise and Sam leaned down, picked the kid up and threw him over a shoulder. Sam had one captured hand and held on to both ankles with his other giant mitt to prevent Dean from kicking him in the chest.

That left Dean with only one arm free and his delicate ass in a vulnerable position. "I'm telling you, Dean." Sam muttered. "Settle down and stop embarrassing me or you won't be able to sit down for the rest of the day."

"You wouldn't dare!" Dean squawked.

"Don't test me kid." Sam answered. "Remember, the Angel gave you to me. You'll do what I say or be prepared to pay."

Sam took the steps two at a time and Carson followed behind. At the top Sam put Dean on his feet again and bent down to give Rumsfeld a good scratch behind his ear. Dean extended a hand and carefully gave the big dog a scratch at the base of his spine. Rumsfeld went to doggie heaven and Dean was his new best friend.

Two men, a boy and a happy Rottweiler all made their way through the open screen door into Bobby's house. Following the smell of freshly brewed coffee the parade ended at Bobby's kitchen table. Sam pulled out a chair for Dean and then sat down himself. He passed his hand over the scarred wooden table top as memories of days long gone paraded through his head.

He had sat at this table with his father and argued. Most of his memories about the man were of major arguments. Poor Bobby had been caught in the stormy fights, sometime throwing them both out of his house to preserve the peace. Sam looked over at a chipped wall tile where John's coffee cup had hit the night Sam told the man he was leaving for California.

Bobby had acted as the family buffer up until he had threatened to fill both of them with buckshot if they ever showed up together again. Sam often wondered if Mary and the baby had survived the fire maybe he and his father might have learned to tolerate each other. Sam vaguely remembered his mother as a quiet, peaceful presence. It was so much better when she was alive; of course he had been five at the time. She could have been a spitfire away from him.

Now both his parents were gone. Sam had seen his mother's ashes put in an urn mixed with those of his baby brother and placed on his grandparent's tombstone. He had built and lit his father's Hunter's pyre himself. He was the last of the Winchesters and he expected the name to die with him.

Digging his way out of the trance created by his contemplation of Bobby's kitchen table he laughed at himself. If Bobby ever found out he'd most likely take the table out back and burn it.

"Well, how did the hunt go? Manitous all cleaned out?" Bobby asked all business.

Carson answered. "It was great. Sam showed me all the chants and told me about the Lakota rituals. We cleared the Black Hills first then moved on the Badlands. I learned so much. Sam was great."

Bobby smiled at the young Hunter. "That's why I sent you with him. You need to know more about the Supernatural than just what kind of ammo to use. It should not be all point and shoot,"

"Right," Carson enthused. "My Dad never told me about any of this stuff. He showed me how to pack the salt cartridges and how to clean weapons. He showed me how to burn bones and how to sharpen knives but he never mentioned anything about why things had become what they were."

Carson turned to Sam. "Thanks Sam, I'll never forget this trip and I'd like to maybe go with you again sometime. Think of me when you need someone."

"It was good having you along, Carson. I only wish we could have seen more. You're headed back to Minnesota now, aren't you?" Sam played with his coffee cup then took a sip.

"Steve Nelson in Green Bay is expecting him," Bobby said. "Speaking of expecting someone, Sam. who's your extra baggage?"

"Hey," Dean spoke up. "I'm not just baggage. I'm Dean and the nerdy guy said that Gigantor here was supposed to protect me from demons and other stuff." The kid stood up and went for the coffee pot where he filled a mug. "You got any milk, Mr. Bobby?" He stuck his head in Bobby's refrigerator.

"Sad when they're all shy like that," Bobby said staring at Sam. "What's the story and since he belongs to you do you let him drink coffee?"

Sam sighed. "Bobby, what do you know about Angels?"

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

It took a good solid half hour to go through the whole story again. Carson and Dean had not been able to hear what the Angel Castiel had said to Sam; they had only seen the Angel's wings etched against the trees and scrub bushes along the road. Their excited commentaries slowed the story a bit.

Bobby had momentarily wondered if Sam had hit his head sometime during the hunt but with three witnesses be found it hard to dispute the fact that something strange, which had claimed to be an Angel, had appeared to Sam on the road at the bottom of the driveway.

Bobby stood up after everyone had run down and had them follow him into his library

"Sam," he said as he started to pull books off the shelves. "As hard as it is for me to believe that you're a modern Saul of Tarsus, I think you might have met an Angel on the road. If he wasn't trying to convert you then I think we should simply listen to what the Angel had to say. Most of what this supposed Angel had to say was about our little friend here."

Bobby peered over the desk at Dean who was quietly sitting on the floor with the dog, staying out of the line of fire. Dean scratched the dog's back and wondered if there was another dog waiting for him to come home somewhere.

"Hey," Dean answered Bobby's look, not his words. "I don't know anything about it. I don't remember my name or anything else. The first thing I remember is nerdy guy telling me to go over to Jolly Green here and ask him if he was Sam Winchester. That's all I know."

San was sitting on the other side of Bobby's desk holding a book open in his lap. "Dean," he said. "My name is Sam. Try to hold that thought; Sam, not Gigantor or Jolly Green or anything else but Sam."

Dean was rubbing Rumsfeld's belly and the dog was pounding the floor with one excited leg. "You didn't ask me when you gave me your Grandma's name. Why can't I call you anything I want, just like you did?"

Sam looked at Bobby who was hiding a smile behind his book. "I'm the adult here. " Sam said through thinned lips. "The Angel gave you to me and I call the shots. If you don't behave I'll send you off to bed right now. Got it?"

Dean looked back at his friend, the dog. "Fine then I am baggage. Are you going to get that license for me? Then I can sleep with the dog."

"That reminds me," Bobby spoke up. "We have a little legal problem here."

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"School's in session right now. If you go driving around with a kid in the car sooner or later questions are going to get asked. The nosey old biddy down the road watches this place like a hawk. I think she believes we're all devil worshippers. " Bobby shook his head. "It might have something to do with the class of customers I have coming through here all hours of the day and night. Neighbors are like relatives, you just have to live with what you get, you can't pick 'em to suit yourself."

"What can we do about it?" Sam asked and Dean's ears picked up. Somehow he just knew he wasn't going to like what came next.

"Well we're going to have to get him some papers; a birth certificate, at least and a Social Security card. He's going to need school transcripts to register for school and we need to get him an immunization record."

"Good God, Bobby," Sam exclaimed. "All that just for a kid? It sounds like you've done this before."

Bobby removed his ball cap and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. "Once or twice, maybe; I've had to come up with new identities for people before. I know a guy in Sioux Falls who can fix us up. It should actually be easier for a kid. No driver's license or credit cards."

Bobby put his hat back on. "You'll have to owe me for this. Frank's not cheap. His paperwork is good, it'll stand up to anything. I just need a couple of questions answered that I know Frank will ask. First he'll want the kid's full name, age and any identifying marks.

Sam looked down at Dean on the floor. "Any ideas, Dean? Who would you like to be?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't remember anything. I don't know what my name was before so anything you like, I guess."

"No, you go on and pick, Dean." Sam answered softly. "I got to pick your first name why don't you pick the middle one? If you want to use Winchester or even Bobby's name, Singer, for your last name go ahead; pick whatever you want."

"If you want it, my last name is Wyne," Carson said. "You can use it if you want to. I won't mind."

Tears prickled at the corners of Dean's eyes. He reached up quickly and rubbed them away with his sleeve. He didn't know his own name but these men were offering to share theirs with him. It helped a little bit. "Dean Michael Winchester." He said. "I'll be Dean Michael Winchester until I remember my real name. I'm ten years old, that I know. About the marks stuff, I don't remember. I guess I could look." He pulled up his T-shirt and looked at his stomach.

"Whoa, kid." Bobby laughed. "I'll tell you what. Down the hall is a bathroom. Why don't you go take a shower and look then? Who knows, maybe looking at yourself will help you remember something." Bobby then turned to Sam. "Sam go up to your room. In the closet there are some boxes of stuff you left here when you were a kid. I never got around to throwing the stuff out. Why don't you go look and see if there's a T-shirt or something that Dean can put on. The stuff was all clean when I put it in the boxes."

Sam found a T-shirt, boxers and socks for Dean in the closet. He wondered just why Bobby had saved all these things. Maybe the Hunter just wanted to be ready if a naked kid wandered by the junkyard. Sam snickered to himself and brought the clothes to Dean's bathroom door.

In fifteen minutes or so Dean was back in the living room, shiny clean with his damp hair curling even more. "I got a red mark on my butt that looks like a map of Texas." He said. "I kinda remember someone telling me that once. It looks like a map of Texas. That's all."

Bobby held his laugh in. "That's good kid. That's what's known as a distinguishing mark. Now we have only one more thing that Frank's going to want to know; parents. Sam, how old are you?"

A shocked Sam looked up from his book. "I'm twenty four." He said. "Shouldn't you be his Daddy, Bobby?"

"My name's not Winchester, thank Heaven and I'm not the one who's going to be driving around with him in my car. It's just possible for you to be his Daddy. If you started young, say 13, you would have been 14 when he was born. It's physically possible." Bobby looked satisfied. Sam looked stunned.

"I even know somebody who could be his Mom." Bobby said. "Remember Annie?"

"Oh for God's sake, Bobby," Sam exclaimed. "She was twice my age."

Bobby laughed. "Annie really got around and she liked them young. She would have gone after you like a dog after a steak. And she's dead. That makes it perfect." Bobby made more notes. "Well I think that's it. I'll go call Frank."

Dean finally abandoned Rumsfeld and stood up. He came over and leaned against Sam's side. "Ok, so my Mom is someone named Annie who got around and you're my Dad. Am I getting this right?"

Sam looked at the little boy. "Yes."

"OK," Dean fluttered his eyelashes. "Daddy, what's my allowance?"


	4. Chapter 4 - Welcome to Sioux Falls

-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 4

**Welcome to Sioux Falls**

Sam put down his book and laughed at Dean's fluttering eyelashes. "An allowance! You want me to give you an allowance?"

"Bobby's going to get papers that say I have to call you Daddy." Dean said seriously. "I think I'm owed something for the embarrassment. Come on. A couple of bucks a week won't hurt you."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not going to bribe you to call me Daddy. I'm not even sure I want you to call me Daddy. I might pay you for chores. Things like packing salt cartridges or washing the Impala."

Bobby appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Or helping me in the yard or cleaning up the kitchen after meals."

"Whoa," Dean threw his hands up. "Can we just go back to me getting an allowance for pain and suffering?"

Sam looked up at the clock above Bobby's desk. "It's late. It's almost nine. You've had your shower. Just go to bed. I left you some PJs in the guest room. Bobby and I have to talk about things."

Dean did feel tired but he also wanted to know what these men were going to discuss. If he had to stay here, lost and confused and feeling vaguely like he was not even real, he wanted to know everything. Even though he was yawning, he objected. "I want to know what's going on. It's my life you people are playing with after all."

San lifted Dean on to his lap.

"Oh, no,". Dean objected and tried to wiggle lose. "I'm not sitting in your lap, Put me back down."

"Look kid," Sam said quietly firmly holding the boy's arms. "You're here now. That Angel was pretty definite. I'm supposed to protect you, hide you, and watch over you. Bobby and I have to make plans for your own good. If you promise to sit here and not cause trouble, we'll wait for you to put on your PJs and come back."

Dean nodded and Sam put him back on the floor. The little boy headed for Bobby's guest room and found the promised PJs lying on the bed. He stripped. The PJs were old and soft. They felt nice against his skin. He yawned again and thought he'd just put his head down on the comfy looking pillow for just a minute. He lay down and closed his eyes.

Sometime later the door clicked open and Sam stuck his head in the room. Dean was sprawled on the bed, out cold and wheezing softly. The young Hunter pulled up the afghan from the foot of the bed and covered the boy. He checked that the window was firmly locked, turned out the light, and left the room as quietly as he had entered.

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Bobby sat in his beat up old Lazy-Boy with a beer in his hand and the T.V. on low. "Where's the kid?" he asked when Sam reappeared in the room

Bobby passed a beer along and Sam sat down on the ancient couch with the cold bottle pressed against the side of his head. "Sound asleep. It looks like he fell into the bed."

Bobby sipped at his beer. "That happens at that age. I'm a little surprised through. I would have thought the poor kid had too much on his mind to go down fast like that."

The silence crawled around the room. "What are you going to do about him, Sam?" Bobby finally asked.

"I'm not completely sure right now." Sam answered. "I know intellectually I should simply hand him off to the authorities and let them deal but then I remember the Angel's, if it really was an Angel, warning. He was given to me to protect him from Demons and Angels. Ignoring the part about the Angels, how could I let a little kid like that end up a Demon's toy? "

"I hear you, boy. " Bobby said quietly, quickly checking to make sure that no kid was eavesdropping. "If they didn't kill him outright could you imagine what a possession could do to a child that young; let alone a full out trip to hell? We can't let that happen."

"I know, Bobby." Sam was still rolling the cold bottle on the side of his head. One of Sam's famous headaches was building up. He closed his eyes against the soft light in the room. "I think I'm going to have to keep him. "

There was a noise in the hall and both men tensed up but it was Carson, not Dean, who appeared.

"Hi, guys," he said. "I hope I'm not interrupting but I can't sleep. I keep thinking about seeing an Angel today. Between the Manitous and the Angel my world has become even stranger than before. My Dad would completely freak. Shit, he would be calling all of us liars."

"Take it easy, kid." Bobby counseled. "I'm out of beers here but why don't you go get three out of the fridge? I'm pretty sure Sam and I will need refills soon."

Carson headed for the kitchen and Bobby looked back at Sam. "Another headache, Sam? Maybe you should have those things checked out. Could be you've bounced your head off one too many tombstones. It seems to me like they've been getting worse lately."

"You may be right." Sam responded." I think they might be migraines and hopefully not permanent brain damage. I guess I should have it checked out. I'm beginning to see lights and shadows and sometimes even things like dreams in color when a headache gets really bad. At that point I'll generally pass out and when I wake up it's gone. "

"Damn kid, that's bad." Bobby said. "I didn't know you were passing out from them. Tomorrow I'll call Doc Addison's office. He can see you and the Pediatrician can see Dean and get his shots done. That contagious stuff is nothing to mess with. If we're going to go all the way and put him in school I don't want to fake the immunization card. He's likely to drag something home from school that'll kill us old guys."

Sam snickered. "What's the matter, Bobby? Afraid of the measles?"

Sam finally took a sip of his beer. "I got to say it sounds like you are expecting us to stay here with you. I don't want to put you out like that. We'll find a place of our own."

"Hell, boy," Bobby barked out. "I want you right here under my thumb. I got jobs for you to do. What're you going to do with the kid when you're on a hunt? Take him with you? "

"That's what my Dad did," Sam responded.

"And we all know how well that turned out, " Bobby grumbled. "Towards the end you couldn't even talk to the man. Where were you when John disappeared? You didn't even know he was gone for almost a month. Hell of a thing." Bobby swallowed down the rest of his bottle just as Carson appeared with three fresh ones from the kitchen.

"You know that I think about that a lot, Bobby." Sam said.

"It wasn't your fault Sam and don't put it on your shoulders. The man was a complete jackass." Bobby opened his new bottle. "He should never have gone on that hunt without backup. There's plenty of Hunters around he could have teamed up with. I could have found him someone even i f he had pissed off half the county at one time or another. That wolf should have never taken him down. Stupid bastard always thought he could never lose."

Sam stood up. "I got to go take some aspirin," he said. "I'll be right back."

Bobby turned his attention to Carson. "Did he have problems with the headaches during the hunt too?"

"No, not really," Carson answered. "He only had a couple and they seemed pretty mild.

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Sam stood in Bobby's bathroom, staring into the mirror. His headache was headed for a high and lights were flashing in his eyes. The surface of the mirror seemed to ripple and he knew this was going to be a bad one. It felt like a band was tightening around his head. Then the mirror cleared. He saw the kid, Dean, with the Angel standing behind him, wings out stretched in protection and a silver sword in the Angel's hand. It looked like they were walking on a volcano, the ground glowed red in flashes. The Angel was looking around as if expecting an attack and he was pushing Dean forward.

The pain peaked and Sam finally went down. He slid down the wall and settled on the cool tile floor. The vision of Dean and the Angel vanished and the pain in his head also decreased. In just a couple of minutes his head stopped throbbing and he was able to pull himself up from the floor. These visions were coming more and more often. Sometimes they were about things that had happened in the past. Sometimes they were about things that didn't happen until a day or two later. Some of them he had seen but, as far as he knew, the event had never happened or hadn't happened yet.

He looked back in the mirror, preparing to open the cabinet and find Bobby's aspirin. He was shocked to see blood trickling out of his nose.

Sam found and took a couple of aspirins and cleaned up his face. Now he was ready to go talk to Bobby again.

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Back in the living room Sam found Bobby and Carson deep in discussion about Ghost ships. Coming from the Great Lakes area Carson knew that Hunters had particular problems with ghost ships. There was really very little that could be done about them. Only if the ship's haunts became dangerous and manifested on shore could a Hunter try to deal with the problem

No one was going to go out in some rowboat and try to chase down a ship; no one with any sense. It happened and Bobby considered Hunters who chased phantom ships as complete idiots. When they went down with their delusions it was a kind of winnowing of the herd. Natural selection in action, Bobby called it.

Carson laughed and promised to keep his feet dry.

"Hey, Sam," Bobby acknowledged the man's return. "Feel any better?"

"Actually, a lot better, Bobby," Sam replied. "The headache peaked and stated to fade but I took the aspirin anyway. I don't want that coming back tonight."

"Well, good." Bobby went on. "We were talking about you and Dean moving in here with me."

"We were?" Sam was surprised. "I didn't know it was settled."

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't want to, Sam?" Bobby asked.

"No, no, not at all, Bobby," Sam replied. "It would be really great not only for me but also to provide some stability for Dean. It's just that I don't want to lean on your good nature or take advantage of you."

"Ha," Bobby exclaimed. "I don't have any good nature to lean on and you'll have to get up a lot earlier in the mornings to take advantage of me. I've been around a lot longer than you, boy. You may be young and fast but I'm old and sneaky and that'll beat you every time. If I don't want you here I'll let you know."

"That's really good of you Bobby." Sam replied. "If you're willing to put up with us I'm willing to try and make it work. If I'm taking on this kid I want to see to it that he has a better life than me; more stability, more opportunities and an option to stay away from the life. Things I never had. It means a lot to me."

Bobby drank a few more inches of his new beer. "Well, I'm certainly ready to have people in my house. I'm tired of talking to the dog. The damn animal never listens, anyway. The kid is fresh meat. He's never heard any of my stories."

"Are you sure you want to insulate him from the life?" Bobby went on. "Around us he's going to need protection. He needs to learn some basic skills. You should take care of that."

"I plan to take him out on the more mundane hunts; nothing seriously dangerous. Maybe some salt n' burns, the Spirit walks, purification rituals; you know the stuff," Sam replied.

"Yeah," Bobby nodded. "I'd also be pretty pleased to have you learn about my library. There's a lot of stuff there that needs passed along and I think you might be a good choice. If you can read law books you can read this stuff. It sounds like a pretty good idea to me."

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Early the next morning Sam woke Dean at almost eight AM by grabbing a bare foot and shaking.

Dean immediately rolled over and kicked out, almost catching Sam in the face.

"Nice reaction time, kid," Sam laughed. "Come on, get up. We have a big day ahead of us. We're going to turn you into a real boy today so haul your butt out of the bed and get dressed. Breakfast is on the table in fifteen minutes so if you want food, get dressed and get downstairs." With that Sam left the room.

Dean yawned and ran his hands through his hair. He considered going back to sleep just to mess with Sam but the smell of fresh coffee was in the air along with the added aroma of frying bacon. Even the joy of messing with Sam was outweighed by a craving for breakfast. Food could be his number one hobby. he thought.

Peeling himself out of the bed he got dressed and headed down stairs. He found the three men sitting around a table loaded with scrambled eggs, pancakes and bacon. Dean clambered up on a vacant chair and Sam passed him a loaded plate.

"You need to thank Bobby for feeding you." Sam told him. "You're on clean up duty this morning so I hope you're not allergic to dish soap."

Dean stopped with a fork full of eggs half way to his face and eyeballed Sam. "Gee, Daddy," he snarked. "You already leased me out as a slave? Should I kiss your ass for the favor?"

Bobby snorted in his coffee. "Yeah, Sam, you got a live one here. This should be fun to watch."

Sam snapped the newspaper he was reading up in his face and ignored the kid. "He'll learn, Bobby. Don't worry. What's on the agenda for the day?"

"Well, first we should go over to Doc Addison's office. We have appointments for someone to look at your head and for the Pediatrician to give smart mouth here his shots."

"What?" Dean squawked. "No baby doctor is getting near me with a needle."

Without even looking at him Sam said "Shut up Dean. What's after that, Bobby?"

"After that we pick up the new paperwork from Frank and head for the elementary school to get him registered for the fifth grade. " Bobby went on as if Dean's hadn't said anything at all.

"No way," Dean objected. "I'm not going to school."

Again Sam responded with "Shut up Dean."

Sam turned the page on his newspaper. "I suppose I'll have to get him something to wear to school. That box in the closet is only going to go so far."

"So we'll end the day at Walmart or Target." Bobby said and took another sip of his coffee.

"Oh, hell," Dean scoffed, climbed down from his chair and headed for the coffee pot.

"Lighten up on the coffee, kid," Sam said without looking away from the obituaries. "Make sure you go pee before we leave. I'm not escorting you to every bathroom in Sioux Falls."

"Thanks for the tip, Dad." Dean rolled his eyes.

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Sam sat in the darkened room while Dr. Addison's associate flashed a light in his eyes. He had his blood pressure measured; he had donated blood to the office vampire and peed in a cup. Now this Dr. Chang, who Sam thought was really young to be a full-fledged doctor, was checking the state of his eyeballs.

Sam had already had puffs of air shot in his eye, he had stared at a light green blinking light until his eyes watered and had read the eye chart all the way down to the last line. He couldn't imagine what else they would want to do to him.

Dr. Chang clicked off his light and sat down. "Do you associate the headaches with any kind of trigger, Mr. Winchester? Can you tell when one is coming?"

"I never know when one is going to show up. They come at any time of the day or night. I can be exercising or sitting down. I've woke up with them. I've had one while I was eating dinner. I can't really associate them with anything." Sam answered.

"I can't find anything wrong with a cursory examination." Dr. Chang mused. "We can wait for the tests to come back but since you're here I'd really like to do an X-Ray. You say you have had a number of blows to the head recently?"

Sam relaxed n the examination chair. "A few but I never had any problems afterward."

"Well, you're having problems now." Dr. Chang pointed out. "I would recommend an MRI to check for brain damage but you talk to your Uncle about what his insurance will cover. MRI's can be expensive."

Dr. Chang fussed with his equipment. "You just stay here and I'll send in the nurse to take you to X-Ray. We might as well find out how many times you've cracked your skull."

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Down the hall Dean was in the hands of his own doctor. Bobby had escorted the boy into the examination room to authorize treatment and answer the Doctor's potential questions.

Dr. Marshall, a nice looking middle aged woman, had a series of questions.

"So all records were lost in a fire?" she was looking at the file that the nurse had opened in the computer earlier.

"That's right," Bobby said. "He lost his family and all the records. When CPS brought him to his Daddy they said that not even the school had his records, which I thought was odd. I'd rather be safe than sorry so that's why we're here. Load him up, Doc.. We need the inoculations record to get him registered for school."

Dean glared at Bobby. Earlier Dr. Marshall's nurse had brought in a tray and now Dr. Marshall whipped off the paper covering displaying an intimidating number of needles and vials.

"Alright, Dean." the nice lady said. "Let's get started. First, drink this." She handed him a paper dup of pinkish liquid.

For the next half hour Dean drank things that tasted like crap, had to lie on his stomach while the Doctor pulled down his pants and stuck needles in his butt and generally felt like a lab experiment. Every time he objected Bobby echoed Sam and told him to shut up.

Finally the doctor was done. "Interesting birth mark," she said while entering it in her computer record. "Really looks like a map of Texas, doesn't it?"

Dean pulled his clothes together and slid off the table, thoroughly flustered.

Bobby and the doctor went through the aftercare instructions and the list of reactions to watch out for. Bobby took it all very seriously and Dean was just pissed. Finally they were released to reception to wait for Sam. Dean found out not to sit on hard plastic chairs and spent his time pacing.

When Sam finally appeared they all hiked down to the Impala and took off to Bobby's friend Frank's place to pick up some expensive but official looking paper. They then headed out to Discovery Elementary School, the school closest to Bobby's Salvage Yard,

They pulled into the parking lot of a blocky looking red brick building and hunted for the office. Inside were the expected wide corridors, lined with lockers. There was a low hum of voices. It looked like a slightly cleaner than expected school. Graffiti was evidently not allowed.

Their little group moved down the echoing hallways and found the office. Inside was a hive of activity. Children sat on chairs lined up against a wall evidently waiting for their doom. Personnel rushed about answering phones, making copies and clustering in low voiced groups. Sam, Dean and Bobby waited to be noticed. The kids lined up waiting for their summons eyed Dean like he was a piece of fresh meat.

Dean poked an elbow into Sam's thigh and pointed at a map on the wall. "Look," he grinned. "This place is in Minnehaha County. It's already a joke."

Sam looked down. "Not now, Dean. You can laugh later; maybe in class."

One of the school clerks finally gave them a break and when she found out that they wanted to register a new student, led them to a small conference room. Whipping out a folder with a ton of forms she passed around papers for everyone to fill out. After Bobby told the same long sad story he had told the doctor about a fire and lost records and deaths in the family she unbent enough to give up on a records request, accepting the story of Dean's emotional trauma and selective loss of memory, like the name of his last school.

Dean got with the program and every time Mrs. Varner got too close to asking a question he couldn't answer he would follow Bobby's lead and burst into tears and whimper about his mother burning.

_-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Registration complete and a schedule clutched in Sam's hand they finally made it back to the Impala.

Sam turned and stared at Dean in the back seat. "Quite the little con man, aren't you?

Dean gave his 'Daddy' a completely false grin. "Hey, it's what you wanted, right Jolly Green?"


	5. Chapter 5 - A Different Life

-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 5

**A Different Life**

"I'm not going to go through this crap every morning, Dean." Sam grumbled. ""Get out of that bed or I'll dump you out of it. Get dressed and get downstairs. Don't make me come back up here."

Dean cracked an eye and peered up into Sam Winchester's stormy face. "This school thing wasn't my idea." The boy snapped back. "We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you had just let me stay home."

"Enough." Sam snapped back. "This is your only warning. I expect you down stairs in five." The big man stomped out of the room.

The boy rolled over on his back and folded his arms under his head. On one hand there was the possibility of really getting Sam Winchester's goat; an enticing idea even with the threat of damage to a sensitive area of his body. On the other hand there was the possibility of lulling these guys into believing that Dean was going with the program. He might be able to use that to his advantage later and the smell of frying bacon made that idea even more attractive. He could get his bacon and then ditch school behind Sam's back.

For just a moment Dean considered that this might be a dangerous idea. He wondered what kind of life he had been living before when planning an escape from adult supervision seemed like a natural thing to do.

Distracted by the thought he got out of bed and got dressed. He picked up the brand new and almost empty back pack that Sam had bought him yesterday and headed downstairs to breakfast.

Sam was sitting at the kitchen table reading another newspaper. Bobby was at the stove turning the bacon and buttering toast as it popped out of the toaster. The scrambled eggs were already on plates. The whole scene was as domestic as all get out. Dean snickered.

Dean couldn't control it. "Hey Bobby," he smiled. "Don't you have an apron?"

Sam lowered his newspaper and peered at the kid over the edge.

Dean smiled big. "Hey Daddy, have you ever heard of something called the internet? They have newspapers there too."

Bobby came to the table with two loaded plates. "Kid, let an old man give you some advice. Sit down, shut up and eat. We're both bigger than you and I guarantee that Sam's a lot meaner." With that bit of advice Bobby started distributing the food.

Sam put his paper down as soon as Bobby was seated and waited for the older man to get a couple of mouthfuls down. "Before we take you to the school, Dean, there's a couple of things we should get established." Sam reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

"The Angel warned that demons were after you. He said that he's carved some kind of Angelic Sigil into your ribs that would hide you from the demons and other Angels. He said that you were hidden even from him. Even so, you need to be very aware of what's going on around you. Stick with groups of people, don't wander off and try not to get caught alone." Sam was using a very serious tone of voice to lay down these rules. Dean felt the walls closing in around him. Somehow though, the whole thing seemed really familiar.

Sam went on. "You can tell if someone's a demon by speaking the name of Christ in Latin, "Christo". If the person is possessed for just a moment their eyes will go completely black. "

Bobby then made a contribution. From his pocket he pulled what looked like a liquor flask. Bobby laughed at the look on Dean's face. "No kid, it's not whiskey. It's Holy Water. If you throw it on a demon it burns them like acid. Sometimes you can surprise them with it and get away."

Dean reached out for the flask. When he picked it up he was surprised at how light it was. Bobby laughed at the look on Dean's face. "It's plastic, kid. The schools all use metal detectors now. I can't give you a classic flask. They'll take from you right at the door.

Sam chimed in. "Another thing, take this." He passed over the cell phone to Dean. "Put this deep inside your back pack. You're not supposed to carry them into class although the teachers generally will overlook it as long as it doesn't ring and you don't use it in class. Student cell phones have proved to be very useful in emergency situations. Useful enough that the schools pretty much ignore them."

Bobby put a hand on Dean's arm. "Is this stuff freaking you out kid? What's with the weird look on your face?"

Dean shook his head. "It's probably nothing but I seem to remember someone else telling me the same things; someone else giving me the same speech. Maybe I'm remembering something. I don't know."

"I don't know what to say about that Dean. Sam said slowly. "Maybe you're right. It could have something to do with your other life. "In any event, if you see a demon or even suspect there's a demon around, call me. Also listen for the sound of wings. You have to also watch out for Angels. That's something no one else has most likely ever told you. No matter, either one, demon or Angel, call me and I'll come as fast as I can to get you, I promise."

"There's one more thing." Sam said and reached down beside his chair. He laid a Bible on the table. It has bound in black leather and the Hunter pushed it over to Dean. "Open it up," he said.

Dean flipped through the first half inch of thin pages and then came to a place where the pages had been hollowed out. A silver dagger laid snuggly in a cut out made to fit it exactly.

"After you go through the metal detector at the front of the school I'm going to walk back in and try to hand this to you over the counter. Hopefully the security guard will just see a Bible and let it pass. If we pull this off, put it in your locker and keep it there. I don't want you walking around anywhere without access to a weapon. A silver dagger is a type of all-purpose tool. There's lots of fuglies that can't handle silver."

"Whoa, guys." Dean said. "Good talk. Most kids get the first day of school talk about do you have pens, a notebook, graph paper, and colored pencils. I get magic words, Holy Water and a silver dagger. I feel real special and scared pissless. Thanks."

Bobby burst out laughing. "You'll do alright kid. Don't worry. I have a feeling that your Angel also might be around."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

The Impala pulled up in the street across from the school. Bobby was driving. He pulled to the curb and both Dean and Sam got out; Dean had his back pack and Sam was carrying the Bible. They joined the line waiting to get into the school and pass through the metal detector. Sam was the only adult in the line. Most kids were getting dropped in the 'kissing' lane then joining the line. The little group around Sam and Dean was quiet only because there was an adult standing there. Dean was gathering quite the smirking audience.

He could hear whispering and stifled laughter. Sam's head was too high in the air to hear the little muttered remarks. Finally they had their turn at the metal detector. Dean threw his backpack on the conveyor and walked through the arch. No trouble. No blaring sirens or flashing lights. Everything went smoothly.

At the last moment Sam turned back "Oh, Dean! " he said. "Sorry. Here's your Bible." The tall guy held out the leather bound book and glanced apologetically at the security guard. The guard took the book from Sam and hand It over to Dean and the danger swanned past. Dean took his book and smiled sweetly at the guard. "Thank you so much Officer Sweeny." he said, reading the man's name tag.

"Good bye, Dean." Sam waved. "Either me or Bobby will pick you up outside at 3:30. See you then. Be good."

That did it. The crowd of kids behind Dean thought they had him pegged. He was a Bible thumper's little brother or cousin; fresh meat and most likely a complete wimp. Dean turned to walk down the hall and the older kids almost lined up to bump into him.

The first kid to approach was surprised by a swift moving elbow to the Adam's apple. His fat ass hit the floor with a splat and he was choking and gasping for air. Dean turned and looked down at the kid, his green eyes hooded like a snake's. "Stay away from me. I don't like you." Dean hissed.

The rest of the kids, who had been waiting their turn to establish a pecking order, backed away. It was like suddenly finding out the cute helpless little bunny rabbit you were about to kick had fangs and venom. The oldest kid was only eleven. They had no idea of what evil lived in the world and what some people had to do to protect themselves.

Dean wandered on down the hall looking for his locker number. He was shocked himself at what he had just done. Yes, it looked like a proper response and it was most likely going to keep the other kids away but he wondered how he had learned the move. He had done it without thinking. It had been a practiced maneuver. Even more he wondered just exactly what his other life had been like and who he had lived with in that life.

His first class was English with a Mr. Martinez. Dean huffed. He looked down his list of classes and found Spanish. The teacher was Mr. Grove. Go figure. Sam and he had gone over the schedule last night and mapped out the school. Dean was simply looking not to get lost. Sam marked up the school map with color coded exits, highlighted the fire extinguishers and marked out safe zones like the chemistry closet that was loaded with stuff that could be used as weapons.

After drilling Dean in all the particulars Sam had leaned back in the kitchen chair and laid down the law. "Don't make waves if possible but don't get pushed around either. Both behaviors will get you noticed. Keep an eye on the teachers. The kids might see some weird stuff but no one will believe them. The teachers will get you in trouble."

"Here, take this money." Sam pulled out his wallet and handed Dean a five. "Only buy stuff that's factory wrapped. Check for pin holes. Only buy drinks in glass bottles with metal caps. Be careful. Keep your head down and don't get thrown out of school on your first day. All clear?"

Dean remembered every word. It seemed to be an important conversation like the short one he'd had about the Angel.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

First period English with Mr. Martinez wasn't all that exciting. It was a lot of bookkeeping. Mr. Martinez passed out a sheet that outlined what they would have to do to pass the class; the books, the assignments, the teacher's expectations. Mr. Martinez had a list of books he expected the students to obtain either through purchase or from the school librarian if purchase was not possible. At the end of the introduction to his class Mr. Martinez spent time with the individual students answering questions. Dean was all the way in the back of the room since he was a "W" and no one bothered him. He stuffed Mr. Martinez's sheet into his back pack and waited for the bell to ring.

When the bell rang the room erupted. Dean stood to the side, waiting for the bulk of the students to leave. A few of the kids glared at him. They had seen his take down of Larry Ross and they circled him like he was some kind of snake. Mr. Martinez noticed.

"I haven't seen you before," Mr. Martinez said pleasantly. "Are you new to the area?"

"Yes," Dean answered. "My house burned down and now I'm living with my Dad at Singer Salvage out of town."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Dean." Mr. Martinez said after a swift look at his seating chart. "I hope you will come to like Sioux Falls. Welcome to the area."

Dean stared at his teacher. He seemed to be a nice man, concerned and interested in his students. Dean's heart just was not in the same place. Dean wanted open spaces and silence. He wanted to learn to track and hunt, not write essays. For now he would make his way but no matter what his newly acquired Father, Sam, decided, Dean was not interested in the academic life.

However there was no reason to get on the wrong side of this man who seemed to genuinely like his students. Dean shook the man's hand, smiled and fled to his next class, checking first to make sure that the halls were clear of grumpy fifth graders.

His next class was Physical Education and this one he could get behind. By the time he arrived most students had changed and were out in the gym bouncing basketballs and trying to impress the girl's class at the other end of the gym. Dean stripped down to his T-shirt and pulled out a pair of shorts Sam had stuffed in his backpack. The black shorts looked good with his black AC/DC shirt he thought and he zipped up his bag and hit the court.

Most of the boys were milling around in the school's colors, Orange and White. Dean stood out like a wolf among sheep. Two of the bigger boys looked at him and decided they should show him his place in the pecking order. As they approached Dean looked around and found he was standing next to the climbing ropes.

He swarmed up one and ended up 30 feet off the ground in a minute. Clutching most of the rope to his chest he quickly folded the rope into a looped pattern. The Phys Ed teacher turned around at the noise the other kids were making and was stunned to find one of his ten year olds thirty feet off the ground.

Swiftly flipping through the signup sheets Mr. Marcus found out quickly enough that the name of the student suspended thirty feet off the ground and in imminent danger was one 'Dean Winchester'.

"Dean", the teacher yelled. "Hold on, we'll get you down." Dean's response was a laughing "Don't bother." And he descended in a perfect gymnast's fall, flipping and turning as he released his three foot sections of rope.

Once the kid was on the ground, Mr. Marcus started breathing again and clamped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Don't ever do that again in my class." The teacher gasped.

"I wouldn't have had to if those two guys hadn't tried to make a move on me." Dean pointed out the two boys who had tried to approach him. Dean leaned into the teacher's side and whispered. "I don't know what they thought they were going to do to me in public and now I don't want to get in the shower with either one of them."

The rest of the school day Dean spent alone. His reputation was moving in front of him like a bow wave and the kids simply decided to stay out of his way. The teachers couldn't pinpoint anything that Dean had done but the feeling that a new kind of student had arrived was spreading throughout the school.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Bobby left to get Dean from school in his blue pick-up at a little after 3. He had a little assignment after corralling the kid. Sam asked Bobby to find out if there was a bus that Dean could take home every day. Sometimes Sam would be out on a job and Bobby did have a business to run. It would be best for everyone if the kid had an alternate mode of transportation. Bobby had promised to look in to possible bus schedules.

Sam watched as the older Hunter took off down the driveway and turned back into the house to continue to research a hotel in Lodesville, North Dakota. Bobby had given Sam a new assignment. It looked like a simple hotel haunting but Sam knew that sometimes such things were tricky. Hauntings in public places had been known to turn into sort of spirit 'group hugs'. Investigating one spirit often activated one or two more. Sam was thinking he might need a partner.

He returned to the living room library or, alternately Bobby's library with a couch and T.V., to continue learning all about Lodesville. He had just started his computer search when the rustle of wings interrupted him.

Turning around he found he had earned another visit from Castiel, the Angel.

"Good afternoon, Sam." The Angel ground out in his low voice.

"Castiel," Sam acknowledged with a nod of his head.

Castiel looked around. "Are we alone in the house"

"Actually, yes," San answered. "Dean's in school. Bobby just left to pick him up."

Castiel moved to sit opposite Sam at Bobby's desk. "I see that Bobby has not as yet added the Angel proofing to the house. After thinking about it I realized that since Angels are generally a low priority for Hunters that Bobby may not have immediate and easy access to the proper Sigils. So I brought you this."

The angel pulled a roll of thin papers from inside his trench coat. "Each Sigil consists of two sheets of thin translucent paper. I, of course, could not draw nor carry a completed Sigil without banishing or immobilizing myself. Tell Bobby to draw the Sigils in the house sight lines.

Sam looked at the Angel quizzically.

"I'm very sure that Bobby knows exactly what those lines are here in his own house. Perhaps you should ask him about them. I do request, however, that a path inside be left open for me. I can, of course, break through the warding as I know the Sigils used but I would rather not. Using force would give the other Angels clues about which Sigils are in use and then they could also force an entrance."

Sam picked up the thin sheets. "How does this work?" he asked.

"Each sheet is marked and pairs have the same identifying symbols. Laying one on top of the other will allow the completion of the Sigil. It is a fairly common method for transmitting drawings of powerful symbols. You need both sheets to create the complete design." The Angel paused.

"Well, thanks for this." Sam said. "Now, when we last talked you were in a bit of a hurry. It seemed to me you were worried about some kind of attack. Do we have time now for you to explain this situation? Why have you brought Dean to me? Why is it so important to protect him and keep him hidden?"

"First, you need to know that neither Dean nor I belong to this place." The Angel paused. "This is so hard to explain. Let me say that there are multiple plains of existence. Those plains can cross each other, can mirror each other or can be so separated that they create different versions of history."

"Your plain and the plain that held Dean until yesterday were relatively close together. Dean and you, Bobby and I all exist in both plains. So do a lot of other beings. The two worlds are very close together. In the other world you and Dean are brothers."

"Really," Sam laughed. "Dean is my little brother?"

"Actually," Castile said seriously, "in that other world Dean is your older brother. You are both highly regarded Hunters who are important pieces of a Heavenly plan that has been prophesied since the beginnings of man. "

The Angel continued. "Dean is a manifestation of the Righteous Man, the Archangel Michael's perfect vessel on earth and his weapon, The Michael Sword. You, Sam Winchester, are also a manifestation however you are Lucifer's perfect vessel and the long foreseen Boy King of Hell."

"Holy crap!" Sam gasped. "You aren't just making this up, right? You're serious?"

"In Dean's time line this is the most serious thing to have happened since the creation of the Garden. Your births have been long fortold and eagerly awaited by the Host of Heaven. The battle between Dean as the vessel of Michal and you as the Vessel of Lucifer will destroy a lot of the planet, kill off the human race and grant the angels Paradise."

Sam sat with his mouth open. "What? I can't even begin to understand this. We're two regular guys from Kansas, hanging out in Bobby's Salvage Yard in South Dakota, not pieces in a game of Heavenly chicken."

Castiel tilted his head to one side. 'I really do not understand what poultry has to do with the Apocalypse."

"The Apocalypse? That's what this is about? The Apocalypse?' Sam was stunned.

"Yes, exactly," Castiel said. "When I pulled a ten year old Dean Winchester out of his time line and brought him here to you the Prophesy collapsed. For some reason that, as yet, I do not understand, you were not infected by demon Blood in your cradle, Dean did not trade his soul to bring you back to life, he did not go to Hell as part of the Deal and The Righteous Man as never spilled blood in Hell."

Sam sat back and stared at Castiel. "I don't suppose you can wait to go over all this with Bobby, can you?"

"I would rather not." The Angel answered. "I am creating problems for all of us just sitting here. Heaven may notice me at any time. After Bobby gets the Sigils up I may be able to stay for longer periods of time under their protection. "

"I am here because I was seriously disturbed to find that when I tried to return to my own time line that it had collapsed. Evidently removing an important piece of reality such as the child who will grow into the Righteous man seriously damaged that reality and it has now melded with this time line."

"The melding was naturally accomplished and all would be well except I was in this reality when the other collapsed and now there are two Angels called Castiel here. Since Dean evidently died in a nursery fire as a child he slotted in quite nicely to this new life and is not causing the same problem."

The Angel smoothed his trench coat over a knee. It almost appeared to be a nervous gesture. "I must not be found by Heaven. There is most likely already much concern over the failure of the Apocalypse and finding a second Angel Castiel may allow the hierarchy to discover my plan. They could conceivably seize Dean , poison you with demon blood and get the whole plan back on track."

"As much as I can grasp," Sam interrupted, "that would be a really bad thing."

"Yes," Castiel responded almost eagerly. "I think you understand. Taking a ten year old child to hell and torturing him would seriously weaken Michael's Sword from the Angels' point of view, almost guaranteeing that Lucifer will win and the earth will become not Paradise but Hell."

"So it would screw up their plans," Sam responded angrily. "What about the ten year old child? Isn't he just as important as the Michael Sword?"

"From our viewpoint, even worse, but we must defeat the will of Heaven to prevent it." Castiel replied. "The first step is making sure that discovering my existence does not lead them straight to Dean. I must be concealed. The Angel stood up."

"Wait, Castiel," Sam said. "Once Bobby has the Sigils up can you hide here?"

"Yes, it would be possible with great care." Castiel answered. "But I cannot be discovered right now and I feel the eyes of Heaven searching for an unusual chord in the communication of Angels. That would be me."

"I have an idea." Sam said. "Down in the basement Bobby has a panic room. It's made of pure iron, and salted. Would the iron cut you off from this Angel Radio thing? Do you want to see it? Maybe you can hide there."

Castiel stared at Sam, his bright blue eyes unblinking. "Perhaps, can we go see this panic room?"

Sam put out his band. "Hold on a minute there, Castiel. If you don't mind, I want to take some notes while all this is fresh in my mind."

For the first time Castiel appeared to smile. "You have no idea how 'Sam Winchester' that sentence is."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

When Bobby returned with Dean he was greeted by the news that he had an angel hiding out in his panic room.


	6. Chapter 6 - A New Day

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

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**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 6

**A New Day**

Sam stood out on the front steps and watched as Carson Wyne pulled out of Bobby's yard. Carson was on his way home, head stuffed full of new ideas. Sam nodded and waved his beer as Carson blew the horn and took off.

"So there he goes," Bobby stood next to Sam. "Good kid. He made you a good partner there for a while."

"I agree," Sam said quietly "but he's needed up around the Great Lakes. He told me he's going home to Minnesota for a while, visiting his sister and her kids then he's off to meet up with Nelson in Green Bay. We'll hear from him again, I'm pretty sure."

Sam sat down on the step and drank his beer. He thought for a while about how Carson had a step up on him. Carson had some family left. He was an Uncle and a Brother. Sam envied that. He wanted a place to belong. He was all that was left of the Winchesters. Everyone else was in the ground now. His thoughts turned to Dean and he wondered if he should ever tell Dean that they were brothers. Sam craved the connection to blood,

He considered talking the whole thing over with Castiel. If he could keep Dean safe maybe sometime in the future Dean could provide Sam with family. If he could keep Dean in school, keep him alive and away from the Hunt perhaps Dean could marry and have kids. Sam savored the idea of being someone's Uncle. He had long ago given up the idea of having kids himself. Those dreams turned to dust when he walked away from Stanford and the opportunity of a safe life. Occasionally he felt the cold breeze of eternity wrapping around him and he had accepted the idea of spending it alone. Dean offered perhaps just a tiny light in the dark for Sam Winchester.

Speaking of the Devil, Dean rattled out of the house. It was early morning and the second day of school. The kid had grudgingly rolled out of bed an hour ago and now he was ready to go.

"Who's taking me to school today?" Dean eyed Sam's beer. "Just a little early in the morning for that, isn't it Sam?" Dean resolutely refused to call Sam 'Dad' when there were no strangers around.

Sam stood up. "I'll drive you in but this afternoon you'll have to figure out how to catch the bus home. Here."

Sam handed the boy a fist full of ones. "At this rate, I'm going to have to get a job." Sam grumbled.

"Between me and the alcohol, it might not be a bad idea." Dean answered back. "Who was it that taught you to brush your teeth with beer? Your Dad?"

Sam stared at the ten year old. "You know, Dean, you're going to say something sooner or later that going to encourage me to put you on your ass. If I wanted to talk about my father, I would. Otherwise keep your thoughts to yourself."

Dean knew he had hit a nerve and bent over pretending to adjust his bank pack to avoid the actual pain he could see in Sam's eyes.

Bobby spoke up. "You want me to drive him, Sam?"

Sam started down the stairs. "No, it's alright Bobby. Dean and I will get along fine. We'll get along as long as he's smarter than he looks."

Dean snorted but recognized a flag of truce when it was waved in front of his face and the ride into Discovery Elementary was peaceful.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Bobby watched the tail of the Impala disappear down the driveway and silence descended on the scrap yard. Silly birds were tweeting in the early morning air. They perched on the stacks of derelict cars as if they were hanging out in the trees. Bobby reached into the coffee can nailed on the porch wall and scooped out a cup of bird seed. He scattered it off the end of the porch then watched the feathered hooligans congregate and fight over choice morsels.

"Idjits" Bobby muttered and went back in the house. From the kitchen he gathered up a couple of mugs of coffee and then headed down stairs to talk to his newest house guest.

Bobby tapped on the door of the panic room with his boot and called out, "Castiel, you in there?"

The heavy door creaked open and Bobby entered. "I brought you some coffee," he said to the peaceful figure seated on the other side of the room. He didn't even wonder how the door had opened. He had a freaking Angel of the Lord as a house guest. He wasn't going to ask silly questions.

"Thank you very much Mr. Singer," the Angel spoke in his low heavy voice. "It is not necessary. I do not require either food or drink."

"It's not a question of requiring it," Bobby said. "It's a question of sharing with a human. I guarantee you it puts the human more at ease. You should try accepting a beer from Sam sometime. It will help the boy trust you. By the way, call me Bobby. Only the cops and the IRS call me Mr. Singer."

Castiel stood and accepted the mug from Bobby. "Very well. Then you should call me Cas. You may feel more relaxed with the diminutive form."

The Hunter and the Angel sat in collegial silence, each interested in sharing information about the other's world. Bobby asked about the powers of Angels. The Angel wished to understand how humans I brought into being new ideas through the power of imagination. Bobby's thirst for knowledge was unquenchable. Cas's desire to understand creativity was real and true but seemingly beyond his grasp.

The gift to humans by God of free will seemed to violate every rule of heaven. They sat and talked while Bobby's coffee got cold and Cas's mug was unexplored. When Bobby's phone rang he slid out of his scholarly persona and became the scrap yard owner. Promising to talk again Bobby headed back upstairs.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Sam used the 'kissing' lane to drop Dean at the side of the school. There was no kissing involved in the Impala. Dean scooted out the passenger door and remembered to shout "Bye, Dad." to the tall Hunter.

One of the teacher monitors did give Sam the evil eye. It was obvious that she had her doubts that this was really Dean's Dad. She scribbled a note on her clipboard. "Name?" she barked.

"Dean Winchester, 5th grade." Dean answered and fled.

He again lined up for the metal detector but Sam had him there early and there were only a couple of kids around.

He hit his locker and pulled out the books he needed for his morning classes. He checked his list; English, Phys. Ed., Math and Social Science. The list reminded him to take his gym shorts with him.

Off down the hall to English he noticed the looks he was garnering from a few students. Arriving at the English classroom before anyone else he sat down and gave thought to perhaps developing a gang. If he had a couple of wing men they could watch his back. Currently he felt like we was walking through the woods and was being tracked by predators. Sooner or later someone would try to take him down.

If he had a couple of pack members he would feel a lot safer. This line of thought led him again to consider just what kind of life he had before. He was pretty sure that developing a pack was not a normal train of thought for a ten year old. Then he considered the fact that his contemporaries were doing just that, running in packs. They just never thought about it; they just did it.

He stopped for a minute and stared at the blank board in front of him. Far back in his skull he thought he could hear a voice; a voice telling him to "Run, Dean run." There was fire and noise and a black star-lite sky over head. He snapped out of the partial memory when he recognized Sam's Impala. He was running for the Impala like it was his personal safe harbor.

These fragments of memory were happening more and more. Maybe the wall that was blocking his past life away was leaking a bit. He couldn't understand how Sam's Impala fit into his memories. The image of the car made him doubt that these memories were real. How could Sam's car be there inside his head?

Other students finally began to appear and since Dean was in the last row of seats everyone who felt brave enough tried to annoy the new kid. They bumped into his chair, pretend to run into the back of his head and used all the childish 'look at me' tricks found in any elementary school. Dean refused to let them bother him. He was concentrating on trying to find potential candidates for his pack. The kids moved together like clots in a blood stream, each one trying to cling to his group. Dean marked down the loners.

Dean was concentrating so hard on picking out possible candidates he missed Mr. Martinez entering the room from the front. When the teacher started his introduction to the class his voice buzzed around Dean's ear like the hum of a bee on a lazy afternoon. By the time Dean had evaluated his whole class the man was deep into his prepared speech…"analyze how story structure, point of view, visual elements and figurative language contribute to the meaning or tone of texts."

"Crap," Dean thought and scrambled for his notebook. He had already been given his marching orders. He had to pull good grades or Sam would refuse to take him hunting. By the time he had his material assembled Mr. Martinez had moved on…."learn rules for grammar and usage, capitalization, punctuation and spelling."

Dean looked d at his somewhat incoherent notes. It looked like the fifth grade might be harder than he thought. He also noticed that he was only one of about five people taking notes and the other four were girls.

Finally the bell range and Mr. Martinez shouted out the pages in their text he wanted read and reminded them all they had to bring in a piece of literature to analyze for the next class. Dean snickered and wondered if he should bring in the Iliad in Latin. Then he froze. Why did he think he could read Latin? Besides, wasn't the Iliad written in Greek. Whoa, why did he know that? Was his wall leaking again? He stuffed his back pack and took off for the gym.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Dean waited, as usual, for the halls to clear. It wasn't that he was that afraid of the fifth grade bullies as he was afraid that the little kids could get hurt if he ended up in a fight. He hadn't gotten thrown out of school on the first day so Sam's instructions had been followed. Sam hadn't said jack squat about the second day.

Again last to the locker room Dean put on his black shorts and a plain black T-Shirt. Out on the gym floor he walked to the bleachers and sprawled out. He figured if he was going to pick up potential pack members this would be the place. Looking over the kids running up and down the court in an impromptu game of 'knock you on your ass' basketball he noticed a tall skinny black kid trying to bump his way through to the ball. The semi-feral 'packs' fought back and double teamed the kid.

Finally someone tripped him and he went down. The teacher blew his whistle and sent the kid to the bleachers with a towel to wrap around his bleeding elbow.

The kid sat down in front of Dean and ignored him.

"Hey," Dean said and the kid turned around. Dean extended his hand. "I'm Dean. You were going pretty good out there until they decided to play dirty. Is your elbow going to be alright?"

The kid clasped Dean's hand. "Kerman Terry," he muttered then pulled off the towel to look at his elbow. "I think it's going to be alright. Hurts like the devil though."

"I'm new here," Dean said "what was that all about out there?"

"I'm not welcome," said Kerman. "We just moved here too. My Dad's company moved up here and we moved with them. It's been kind of hard. I had to leave my friends behind in Minneapolis and you might have noticed I'm the wrong color for South Dakota."

Dean looked out at the kids still banging around on the court and noticed that one of the ring leaders of the group that took Kerman down was that Larry Ross kid that Dean had taken down in the hallway on his first day.

"Really, that's what they're like?" Dean said.

"Hey, I looked it up before we moved here," Kerman said, leaning back against the bleachers. "Sioux Falls is eighty seven percent white and just over four percent black. The Latinos out number us and the Native Americans are gaining fast. I'm in a minority of a minority and these guys figure that means I'm just going to take it."

"I'm with you man," Dean responded. "That asshole out there, Larry Ross, tried to take me down on the first day of school and I set him on his ass. Let's make our own team and see if I can do it again. Here, let's see the elbow first."

Dean didn't have any supplies on him but he knew that Sam had tucked a first aid kit in one of the pockets of his back pack. While the teacher was tending to another kid that the pack of bullies had knocked down Dean and Kerman split for the locker room. Once in there Dean did an excellent patch job on Kerman's elbow and the two of them went out breathing fire.

By the time they came back the teacher had regained control of the floor and was letting the kids break up into two teams. Dean and Kerman headed automatically to the team where Larry and his posse were not and at the whistle Kerman took the jump shot and the carnage was on. By the time Kerman sank the shot there were kids down all over half of the court. The teacher practically had an aneurism blowing his whistle and decided that maybe team sports were over for the day.

Dean wandered over by the teacher, Mr. Bernstein and, while casually tossing perfect baskets told the adult that he needed to control the bullies in the class. Dean promised if the teacher needed help he would get it from Dean and Kerman but the kids were going to get hurt if the Larry Ross gang was not controlled.

Mr Bernstein looked into the bright green eyes of this cocky ten year old and decided the kid meant what he said. He remembered that this was the kid that cleared the climbing rope in under a minute yesterday and the teacher felt that Dean Winchester could do what he promised.

"OK, kid. See what you can do with the little barbarians." Bernstein said. "No permanent damage and you take the blame if you get caught."

Dean tipped the teacher a salute and Mr. Bernstein lined the boys up to take free shots for the rest of the class.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Dean climbed on a bus at the end of the day, waved goodbye to his first pack member and settled in for the ride out to Singer Salvage. He felt like he was getting the fifth grade under control even if the homework was ridiculous. Now he was going 'home' to maybe talk to that Angel and keep his defenses up against the random demon and occasional feathered dick.

He was tired. If had been a long day but a productive one. He had a new friend and they watched each other's backs. Even if they were in different classes they met in the hallways every chance they could and walking the Elementary school halls took on less of a jungle atmosphere for both of them. Dean already had his eye on another guy from Science class and was trying to get teamed up with him as a lab partner. That was a job for another day.

The bus dropped him off at the bottom of Bobby's driveway and Dean trudged up the asphalt hoping for a quiet night and a good dinner.

As he neared the house he looked up to see Sam sitting in the porch swing with his ever present bottle of beer. Dean chewed his lip and wondered if he could possibly figure out how to pry that bottle out of the man's hands. He didn't know why but he wasn't comfortable around a potential drunk. Once again there was a tickle in his memory but no picture emerged this time, only the sensation of fear.


	7. Chapter 7 - Bobby's House Guests

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 7

**Bobby's House Guests**

Dean dragged his backpack up the steps to the swing where Sammy was sitting. He stood in front of the Hunter and scanned the man's face. He knew that Sam was only 24 but there were signs of an old and tired spirit inside. Dean climbed up on the swing and leaned against Sam's side.

Sam was surprised. "Are you OK?" he asked, glancing down at the blonde head.

"Yeah," Dean answered. "I'm OK. I made a friend today. His name is Kerman and I might want to bring him home with me soon. What do you think of that?"

Sam ran the old movie of his own childhood. He had made one or two friends but Dad had always freaked out. "No attachments," John had preached. "You'll only leave them in a few weeks. Get over it." The advice was usually followed with a slap to the back of Sam's head. "Just so you remember it." John had laughed and left his son alone to head out to another bar. Hunt, drink and sleep, this was the cycle of John Winchester's life. In the cracks of that life Sam fitted in where he could.

Sam smiled down at Dean. "I think that would be a great idea. When do you think?"

"I just thought about it." Dean relied. "There might be another guy too but I haven't actually met him yet."

"You are a strange one, aren't you Dean?" Sam asked.

"No stranger than you, Big Daddy." the kid answered back.

Bobby had just made his way out to the porch and caught the last piece of conversation. "Hey there, smart ass." he greeted Dean. "Good day at school? I hope the school is still standing."

Dean smiled up at the older man. "It looks just the same as it did this morning. No permanent damage yet."

"Sam," Bobby said. "Did you tell Dean yet about our house guest?"

Dean looked up at Sam who was smiling. "Did you bring home a friend before me?" Dean asked.

Sam took another sip of beer, missing Dean's eyes watching the bottle. "Your Angel is in the panic room."

Dean jumped off the swing. "Really? I want to go see him."

Bobby put out a hand as Dean tried to pass by. "Listen Dean," the man said. "His name is Castiel, not nerdy guy. Show him some respect. You'll know if he likes you. He'll tell you to call him 'Cas'."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Dean cleared the basement steps two at a time. When he made it to the Panic Room's iron door he knocked. "Mr. Castiel? It's Dean. Can I come in?"

The door swung open and Dean's eyes got very large. He could see the Angel sitting at a table on the other side of the room.

"Whoa, did you just open that door with your mind?" the little boy was impressed.

Castiel turned in his chair and smiled at the little golden haired child. "Yes, Dean. I knew it was you. I told the door it was alright to open and it did. Come over and sit with me."

The Angel's voice was deep and growly. Dean hesitated and then decided to come forward. He watched the Angel carefully but Castiel didn't make any moves. He was treating Dean like a small wild animal, teasing it and enticing it closer. Dean finally climbed into the chair on the other side of the table.

In the muted light of the Panic Room the Angel just looked like any other man. He had sharp blue eyes that were focused on Dean, messy hair like he had just been standing in the wind and he was still wearing that trench coat. Maybe he expected it to rain soon.

Dean knelt on the chair so that he could put his elbows on the table. He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "Why did you bring me here, Mr. Castiel?" he asked seriously. "Where did I come from and why do I remember such strange things sometimes?"

Castiel cocked his head to the side and studied the small boy before him. "That's a lot of questions all at once, Dean. I will do my best to give you answers you can understand."

"First of all, I brought you here to keep you safe. In your other life you were being hunted by some very powerful creatures who wanted to hurt you. I believe that Sam Winchester can keep you safe."

Castiel continued. "Secondly, you came from a world very much like this one. This world is very much the same as the one you came from but here you are hidden from the beings who want to hurt you. Some things are different yet I believe those changes are much to your benefit. Again, in this world Sam Winchester may be able to keep you safe. Your name, by the way, was Dean Michael Winchester, so you have chosen well. Your old name and new name will help to bind you to who you are."

"The name is part of the reason for your memories appearing. Your mind is trying to draw the edges of your memories together."

The Angel stood up and held out his hand for Dean. "Come with me Dean. I believe I have solved a problem here today and I can now walk about safely. Let us go continue this conversation with your new family."

"One more thing first," the child said. "Do I have to keep calling you Mr. Castiel? It reminds me of school."

Castiel looked down into the boy's eyes and remembered a pair of eyes that could look him in the face. "No, Dean, you do not. You can call me Cas. All my friends call me Cas."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Cas and Dean walked out on the porch hand in hand.

"What the hell?" Bobby exploded. "I thought you said that walking around out in the open would call your Angel buddies down on our heads?"

Cas sat down on the swing next to Sam and pulled Dean in between his legs. Dean leaned back casually against Cas' chest and relaxed.

"Yes, Mr. Singer." Cas answered. "Oh, sorry, I meant Bobby. Please forgive me"

"Apology accepted." Bobby grumped, "Move on to the important stuff."

"It was very helpful to spend the day quietly in your "Panic Room." Cas started. "By the way that is very nice design on your part, Bobby. Very solid."

Bobby nodded in appreciation of the compliment and waved his hand indicating move on.

"Without having to watch over my shoulder for pursuers I was able to concentrate on the problem of my signature appearing on Angel Radio, as Sam calls it." Cas smiled at Sam Winchester.

"A very simple solution occurred to me. I have simply 'powered down'. I am able to move about invisibly and transport from place to place but all at a much less powerful level than before. At this level I am hardly more than static in the Heavenly sound, buried deep below the levels at which Angels normally call out. A monitor now would have to search very carefully indeed to notice my signature."

"Is that safe for you?" Sam asked.

"I believe so," Cas answered and wrapped his hand around Sam's shoulder. "I can regain my previous power levels quite rapidly indeed but it would be like setting off a siren on Angel Radio. I would have very little time to escape."

"So what do you lose in this transaction?" Bobby asked.

"Well, I can only move one or possibly two people with me from place to place. At my normal level I could move all of you and this house. I can still heal wounds but much more slowly and at a cost of some pain to the victim where previously the healing approached the miraculous." It was instantaneous. " Cas slowly recounted.

"I can no longer smite at a distance. I must be able to touch my target." Cas looked like he was searching his memory for further examples.

Sam leaned forward. "Don't stress yourself friend, I think we get the idea."

"Tell them about me, Cas." Dean interrupted. "Tell them about me." The child was very excited.

Cas couldn't help himself. He ran his fingers through Dean's curls. He closed his eyes and for just a moment thought about spiked blonde hair and strong wide shoulders. Only momentarily mourning his lost friend Cas knew this was the better way. He opened his eyes and smiled at the little boy in front of him.

"Well," Bobby chimed in. "Don't pine for the Varsity Years. What you still can do sounds damn good to me. You could be a real help to Sam on a hunt. Think about it, why don't you?"

Sam's head snapped up. "You want me to think about having an Angel for a partner?"

Bobby snorted. "I want you both to think about it. It's supposed to be a potential partnership. That takes two to agree."

Dean interrupted again. "Cas, come on. Tell them about me."

Cas gazed on the child. "I told Dean about his other world. I told him that it was very much like this one and that he is Dean Michael Winchester in that other world also. He knows his name and every now and then a memory will seep through the vail that once stretched between the worlds and he remembers scenes from his other life."

"We came up here to talk because I wanted you all to know a few facts. In both worlds there was a John Winchester. In both worlds the man was destroyed by tragedy. In both worlds his wife was murdered and he lost everything except a desire for revenge."

"In this world he lost a wife and a son and ignored and abused his remaining family, Sam. In Dean's world both brothers lived and the man abused both children."

Sam looked into the Angel's face. "Dad had reasons for what he did."

"Sam, Castiel responded. "The man had plenty of opportunity to let you lead a better life. He kept you with him selfishly, so that he was not alone. You suffered for it and now you are walking his path."

"What do you mean?" Sam snapped.

"The alcohol you are abusing, Sam." Cas responded. "I know you drink because of the pain but it will, in the end, ruin you. Eventually the drinking will turn into another sorrow. It will soon not be able to sooth the pain. You should learn to control it now before you do become your father. Remember, you now have a son to raise."

"Dean isn't my son," Sam stood up.

Cas laid a hand on the man's arm. "That may be true but he is your brother. He is your responsibility and he remembers his own father and the drinking. He is already afraid of you."

"Is this true, Dean?" Sam asked. "Are you afraid I'll hurt you?"

"I'm afraid you'll leave me behind just like that other man did. I'll be alone. I remember the other man liked his beer more than me, too." For a moment Dean seemed even younger than he already appeared.

Sam swept Dean up in his arms. "Never, I'll never leave you alone. You'll have me or Bobby or even your Angel here but you will never be alone, I promise you."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Sam drove Dean to school the next day. They pulled over about a block away and Sam turned off the engine.

"Dean, Bobby has a job for me to do in Colorado. A ghost is tricking people into an empty elevator shaft. Three people have died and Bobby wants me to go stop it." Sam stroked his fingers down the child's cheek. "Are you going to be alright with Bobby? I promise I'm not abandoning you."

"I understand about Hunting, Sam." Dean replied. "I only wish I could go with you. I loved it out in the Badlands with the Manitous. I loved it. Are you going to take Cas with you?"

"If I take Cas would that bother you? Would you miss us both? I don't want you to feel left behind."

"Hey, Bobby's alright." Dean responded. "He's going to let me read his books and I bet I'll find out all kind of things that will be good to know on a hunt. When I get bigger I'll go with you but right now I want you to take Cas along. He not only can help you, he can protect you. I know you'll both come back safe."

Sam turned the engine back on. "Good enough, Dean. As long as you feel good about it we'll take off tonight. That will give you all day to come up with anything else. Remember, you have my number on your phone and you come first, always. Anything happens you call me and I'll have Cas fly me back here in an instant."

Dean laughed. "Air Angel, huh? Good to know but I don't think we'll have to get Cas to blow all his mojo on a cranky kid. I'm sure Bobby can take care of any problems I might have."

Sam dropped Dean in the lane and Dean pulled his back pack out of the rear seat. After the 'family' meeting on the porch last night Sam had insisted on helping Dean with his homework; once again emphasizing that no matter how many of Bobby's books Dean read if Dean's grades fell there would be no hunting in his future.

Together they had chosen the piece of literature that Mr. Martinez had demanded from his English class. Sam had laughed at Dean's idea of the Iliad in Latin and shot it down. As Sam said, a ten year old reading Latin fluently was one of those things that was going to draw attention. At least Cas's little disclosure about Dean's prior life as the son of a Hunter had explained how it was that Dean knew the language. Latin was an early requirement for a Hunter's children if they were to survive. The settled instead on one of T.S. Eliot's cat poems, Mr. Mistoffelees:

You ought to know Mr. Mistoffelees!  
The Original Conjuring Cat-  
(There can be no doubt about that).  
Please listen to me and don't scoff. All his  
Inventions are off his own bat.  
There's no such Cat in the metropolis;  
He holds all the patent monopolies  
For performing surprising illusions  
And creating eccentric confusions.  
At prestidigitation  
And at legerdemain  
He'll defy examination  
And deceive you again.  
The greatest magicians have something to learn  
From Mr. Mistoffelees' Conjuring Turn.  
Presto!  
Away we go!  
And we all say: OH!  
Well I never!  
Was there ever  
A Cat so clever  
As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!


	8. Chapter 8- A Day in the Life

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

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**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 8

**A Day in the Life**

After dropping Dean at school Sam drove over to Dr. Addison's office. He had not wanted Dean to worry so he didn't mention that he was going in for the MRI that Dr. Chang had recommended. X-Rays had come back with pictures of old healed fractures but there was nothing that could be blamed for his headaches. Bobby's insurance was taking care of all but a small percentage of the test so Singer Salvage's employee and Bobby Singer's nephew, Sam Winchester, was traveling first class.

Dr. Chang entered the examination room and greeted his patient. "Hello, Sam. How have you been doing since I saw you last week? Any more headaches?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Sam responded. "I got one last night just as I was getting ready for bed. If I hadn't been talking to Bobby at the time I would have most likely spent the night on his kitchen floor. It hit hard; one of the kind with flashing lights and moving pictures. Bobby said I folded like an accordion and he was just able to break my fall. I was out for maybe fifteen minutes."

Dr. Chang had a habit of tapping his chin with a pen when he was thinking. "Sam, I have to ask. Did you drive over here?"

Sam jerked his head up. "Yes, I dropped Dean at school and came straight over. Why?"

"Do you really think it's a good idea for you to be driving?" Dr. Chang said. "What if you get one of these headaches when you're on the open road? So far you've indicated that there is enough warning for you to perhaps pull to the side of the rod but I have to say I don't think it's a good idea. Is there someone else that can take over the driving for you?"

Sam was surprised. He thought of his possible new partner, Castiel. "Maybe; do you really think that's necessary?"

"Well," Dr. Chang replied. "I feel that it's somewhat dangerous for you to be on the road. I don't want to file a formal notice with the Department of Motor Vehicles but I will unless you tell me you're going to deal with the possibility. I don't want you to die in a crash, or anyone else either, before we figure out what's wrong with your head."

Sam mulled the question. He wondered if the Angel might know how to drive. He had to admit that the doctor had a point. He didn't want to end up in the car on the side of the road with only Dean to help. The kid might try to drive them home while Sam was watching the pictures on the back of his eyelids.

Dr. Chang put his hand on the door knob. "I'm going to leave you here to get ready for the test. MRI stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging. Have you got metal in your body that I don't know about? Metal plates or screws from prior surgeries, perhaps? I haven't had reason to give you a physical but I have noticed that you seem to have a lot of scars; any possibility that you have old bullets or any other metal fragments buried somewhere? You might be surprised to know that even extensive tattooing can be a problem as a lot of inks have metal components. You'd be stunned at what can happen."

"No, nothing like that," Sam answered.

"A nurse will be in shortly with scrubs for you to wear. Please disrobe completely. The scrubs are for your own protection. No one wants small metal items flying around the lab. A technician will be in shortly to take you down stairs. I'll see you there."

After the doctor left Sam whipped out his phone and called Bobby. "Bobby," Sam said when his mentor answered. "Ask Cas if he knows how to drive. If he does can you ask him to get over to Dr. Chang's office as soon as he can? Thanks."

A few minutes later the nurse who had brought him the scrubs to wear reappeared. "Mr. Winchester, your partner is in the waiting room. Would you like him to come in?" The woman smiled at Sam. "We completely understand if you would be more comfortable with him here. By the way, do you want Mr. Novak to be authorized to be your medical proxy? We have forms here in the office if you want to sign an authorization now."

It suddenly occurred to Sam what this woman and most likely the rest of the office was thinking. Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Thank God he didn't ask who "Mr. Novak" was. Let them all think what they wanted. He was in no mood to explain himself or his partner to them. "That would be fine. Could you bring him in?" Sam replied. "Thanks."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

"Hey, Bible Thumper!" Dean was putting his back pack away in his locker and for a minute didn't understand that the catcall was directed at him. He turned around to see Larry Ross, with a couple of scared looking minions on either side standing in the middle of the hall with his fists on his hips.

"Are you talking to me, Larry?" Dean responded quietly. "My name is Dean, if you don't know."

The red faced bully sneered. "I don't need to know your name. Bible Thumper is good enough. I saw your boyfriend give you a Bible yesterday at the Security Desk. I know what you are."

Dean, still speaking quietly, said "That was my Dad. Why would you call him my boyfriend? Did you lose yours?"

The small crowd, attracted by Larry's loud voice, snickered at Dean's come back.

Larry bunched his fists. "I'm just telling you to watch your back. We don't need people like you in our school. You better be careful where you go by yourself."

The crowd's attention switched back to Dean. Just then Kerman showed up and pushed his way to Dean's side. Now the school bully was looking at two guys. Having delivered his warning he turned his back and left.

"Thanks, Kerman," Dean said. "What the hell is that guy's problem, anyway?"

Kerman laughed. "Until you showed up Larry was King of the Hill around here. He was the biggest kid in the school and all the little kids were afraid of him. You knocked him on his ass the first day you were here. He won't forget that."

Now it was Dean's turn to laugh. "King of the Hill, is that it? I know somebody who's going to be in for a shock when he gets to the sixth grade and ends up on the bottom of the pile in middle school. He's headed for a hard time, for sure."

"I don't know," Kerman replied. "His Dad is a cop. A lot of people don't want to cross a cop's kid."

Dean filed the information away to discuss with Sam and Bobby and gathered up his books for his next couple of classes. He and Kerman took off down the hall together.

English class opened with a bang for a lot of the students. Mr. Martinez established a pattern by asking for all of the previous night's homework to be signed and passed forward. He also asked that the pieces of literature that all students were supposed to bring with them today also be passed forward. There was a lot of moaning at that one and not a few raised hands with a variety of imaginative excuses. The best one was Gail in the front row. She said she had her piece memorized and could she write it out and hand it in after class?

Mr. Martinez exercised mercy and, since it was the first full day, he let them slip. Those who had forgotten or 'accidently' left the paper at home were given an extra day. He glanced through the papers he did receive and paused at one. Glancing up he looked directly at Dean "T.S. Eliot?"

Dean shrugged. "It's a kid's poem." He said.

"I think we both know that it's more than that, Dean." Mr. Martinez replied. "Did you pick this yourself?"

"Actually I was going for the Iliad but Dad said a whole book was too much to drag in and told me to pick something else." Dean shot Mr. Martinez a bright full smile. "What's the matter? Don't you like Mr. Mistoffelees?"

"I'm actual quite pleased with your choice and I'm also pleased to hear that your father takes an interest in your school work." Mr. Martinez then turned to the class at large and started on a discussion of punctuation and how to use it effectively in writing.

In the back of the room Dean distinctly heard two loud whispers. One was "suck-up" and the other was "teacher's pet". Dean strangled his laughter. No one had ever accused him of those things before, he didn't think; the accusations seemed odd and uncomfortable.

At the end of class Dean, as usual, waited for the room to clear. Mr. Martinez saw him waiting. "Dean," he called out. "I hope I didn't embarrass you about your choice of a poem for class."

"Oh, is that what you meant?" Dean answered. "I just thought you didn't like Eliot or maybe you didn't like cats."

Mr. Martinez smiled and waved goodbye to a student who was quickly becoming very interesting.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Castiel was invited into Dr. Chang's office by a nurse sent to fetch him from reception. Dr. Change stood when Cas entered and shook the Angel's hand. Cas didn't have a clue what was going on but just followed the Doctor's lead.

"You are Mr. Winchester's partner, Mr. Novak?" Dr. Chang asked and Cas nodded shortly.

"Sam should be with us in a minute. He's just changing back into his clothes."

No sooner had the words left Dr. Chang's mouth than Sam came through the door. If Sam was surprised to see Cas in the office he gave no indication.

"I thought we would all discuss this together so that there are no misunderstandings." Dr. Chang began. "I attended Sam's MRI and nothing is apparent. Of course, we will analyze the scans in depth but we saw no unusual masses that would indicate any type of intracranial tumor or any apparent arteriovenous malformations. This is all good news."

"On the negative side we still have no idea why Sam is suffering from headaches that can actually knock him to the floor and render him unconscious. At this point the only diagnosis I can offer is severe migraines. We can recommend a migraine specialist for you to see, if you like." Dr. Chang looked like he didn't like to be defeated.

Sam and Cas rose and Sam extended his hand to the doctor. "Thanks, Dr. Chang. I do actually feel better since I don't seem to have a brain tumor." Sam smiled. "I think the MRI was worth it just for that. If anything else shows up after the analysis, please let me know by cell. Cas and I are scheduled for a short trip out of town for a couple of days but I'll consider the migraine specialist. Thank you for your help."

On the way out of the building Cas said "There were a number of interactions that just occurred that I did not understand."

Sam snorted. "There were a number of interactions that just happened that are going to take some explaining for you to understand, indeed. Cas, when you introduce yourself as my partner the people in that office took it to mean that we are a couple."

"We are a couple" the Angel said.

Sam snorted again. "Yes, we are a couple of Hunters, we are partners; all that is true. Look, when we get back to Bobby's I'll try to explain it to you more clearly."

"That would be good. One thing I did understand though." Cas said slowly. "You are being troubled by severe headaches that can't be explained. Correct?"

"Yes Cas," Sam responded as he unlocked the Impala. "Oh, I forgot. Can you drive a car?"

"Yes, I can. Why? Do you not always drive the car?" Cas responded.

"The doctor suggested that I shouldn't drive until the headaches are under control. He's worried that I might crash the car if I get a headache when I'm driving."

"I can solve that." Cas said. "Go on; get in the driver's seat."

Cas went around the car and sat down in shotgun. Sam entered the other side.

"I kind of agree with the doctor, Cas. I don't want to hurt anyone."

Cas reached over and touched Sam's forehead with two extended fingers. "That will prevent you from getting any more visions before we get to Bobby's house."

Sam turned to look Cas in the face. "Visions? The headaches are because of the visions? The visions are real?"

"Yes, Sam." Cas said calmly. "You are a psychic. You have visions of events at a distance; in both time and space. Unfortunately the pain is part of the evolving process. In the future you may start to receive visions without so much pain however they will always render you immobile as they are occurring. It is in the nature of such visions. I can stop them from occurring for a short period of time but they are a part of who you are. They will always come whether you welcome them or not."

Sam was silent as he pulled out of the building and onto the road. "Did the Sam in Dean's world also have visions?" he finally asked.

"Yes, he did" Cas answered. "His visions started earlier in his life. His abilities were manipulated by a demon into an early start. For many years he considered them a curse.

The two men were silent for most of the drive. As they approached Singer Salvage Sam spoke. "I still intend to go on this hunt that Bobby found. I would appreciate it if you would drive, just to make me feel more comfortable. I don't want to go anywhere alone now that I know about the visions. A hunt is a dangerous place to suddenly hit the floor."

"Don't worry, Sam." Cas responded. "I'll be with you. I'll see to it that you stay safe."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

It was in science class after lunch that Dean had spotted his potential second pack member, another tall skinny kid named Jerome Boswell. Dean had noticed Boswell the previous day as the quiet boy appeared to be another target for Larry Ross's pack. Jerry was quiet, smart and solitary. Ross had evidently decided that Jerry should do Larry's share of the lab work in class and homework out of class.

Dean got to class early this time as Kerman walked with him from lunch and Dean didn't wait for the halls to clear. Jerry was already in the room also and Dean made a point of putting his books down on the lab bench next to him.

"I don't suppose you really want to save this spot for Larry Ross, do you?" Dean asked

Boswell smiled. "I would very much appreciate it if you would stay right there and keep Ross away from me."

"Will do," Dean responded. "Do you want to sign up as permanent lab partners for the class?" Boswell's face cleared with relief. The two boys shook hands and a deal was made. When the rest of the class came in a person at a time Dean and Jerry were already deep into the day's assignment. Larry glared at the back of Dean's head but went off to the back of the room to blend in with his pack. Dean could feel Larry's eyes boring holes in the back of his head.

All three boys, Dean, Kerman and Jerry, had the last class of the day, Spanish, together and they walked out of school to the bus stop together. Dean knew that all of them were going to have a better time in school now that they were a recognized group instead of solitary individuals. Dean thought to himself that it just showed that the wolf packs had the right idea.

On the way to the bus they came across a common enough sight. A group of boys were tormenting a smaller child, who had been reduced to tears. Deans' group didn't even bother to break stride. They swept through the center of the knot of kids and swept up the smaller one with them. Just like that Dean had another friend, little Mike Thompson, a fourth grader. Mike looked at the group like they were his personal heroes and when Dean found out that the other kids had taken Mike's bus money he went back and collected it from the thief.

Mike was an unexpected bonus but Dean figured he could be their mascot. Dean not only got Mike's money back, he found the kid's glasses in the dirt and cleaned his face with his bandana. In its own way Dean regarded this action as an extension of his life's goal, "saving people, hunting things." Even if fourth graders weren't exactly monsters he figured they were close enough.


	9. Chapter 9-Sam and Cas Hunt Cripple Creek

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 9

**Sam and Cas Hunt Cripple Creek**

Sam and Cas went back to Bobby's house. Sam drove with the Angel's assurance of safety. Cas had promised that he could hold the visions at bay and Sam decided that if he couldn't trust his partner, then who could he trust? It was an uneventful ride.

Once back in Bobby's kitchen with the senior Hunter they sat down to discuss the Cripple Creek job. Bobby had made a new pot of coffee in anticipation of their arrival and they all settled at the table comfortably. Sam was amused watching the Angel inspect his mug of steaming brew.

"It's coffee, Cas." Sam smiled. "The entire Hunting community practically runs on it."

"I thought that was beer." Cas looked up at Sam. " I don't however, need to drink, or eat either, for that matter."

Bobby joined in the 'let's tease Cas' party. "Remember when I told you to drink the beer if Sam offered you one? This is another one of those social things that humans do, Cas." Bobby put his mug on the table. "It'll help you blend in."

"Angels sing." Cas said suddenly.

"What's that?"

"Angeles sing when they meet," Cas tilted his head. "I suppose you could consider it the Angelic version of social interaction. We sing praise when we meet."

Sam's lips twitched. "That's very nice, Cas but I don't recommend you break out into song in one of the human bars. "

"I would not do that," Cas said very seriously. "I have not had a good response from any human when I use my real voice. They all have the same reaction. They cover their ears. Of course they also get upset when anything made of glass explodes near them. I try not to do that anymore."

"Good idea, Cas," Bobby said. "Why don't you just save that part for when you're with family only and maybe outside, at a distance? I wouldn't mind hearing an Angel sing but it might not be very safe."

"I'll keep that in mind." Cas took a tentative sip of the coffee and drew back his head in surprise. "I suppose this is another human thing that you need to learn to like. Initially the taste is not pleasant."

"Alright , ladies." Bobby said. "I think it's about time to get over the pleasantries and concentrate on this hunt."

"The town of Cripple Creek Colorado started out as a gold mining town. It flourished during the Gold Rush. They built hotels and bars to accommodate the flood of miners looking to get rich. Of course, when the rush was over and the gold seams were worked out the town began a long slow collapse."

"However, Cripple Creek got a second chance at life; gambling is legal in Cripple Creek. It's now a resort town with legal Casinos. The place may have started as a Gold Rush town but today it exists on a gold mine of tourist trade. There may be only about two thousand permanent residents but there's more than half a dozen big hotels, all of them located in historic buildings and every one of them is reputed to be haunted. Beside the Imperial there's the Palace, the Grande, the St. Nicholas, the Victor; they're all over the place. "

"You two are going to go visit the Victor Hotel, possibly the most interesting of them. It's a little ways away from the center of town, out on the outskirts; a real fun spot. It's four stories high and has an elevator. Back in the day when people died in the winter and the ground was frozen too hard to dig graves they would store the bodies on the fourth floor to wait for spring."

"I bet that piece of information doesn't appear on the hotel website." Sam laughed.

"No it doesn't." Bobby agreed. "They also don't talk about their resident ghost 'Eddie' who fell down the elevator shaft. Eddie supposedly takes 3:00 A.M. elevator rides and scares the crap out of everybody when the doors open and close on different floors and there's nobody visible inside."

"That's where you guys are going. Eddie's gotten a touch vengeful lately. He's taken to tricking hotel guests into the empty elevator shaft. There have been three deaths and a number of near misses. The hotel people want Eddie gone."

Sam finished his coffee and stood up. "It's about fifteen or so hours into Colorado. We better get loaded up and hit the road. I assume you've cleared the way for us and the hotel people know we're coming."

"You're all set," Bobby replied. "Just ask for Jess Crayton, the manager, when you get there. He's waiting for you. Did you tell Dean that you two are pulling out?"

"I talked to him about it this morning when I took him to school." Sam answered. "He's good with it. He knows we'll be gone before he gets home. By the way, he asked if he could bring some kid home with him sometime. You might want to ask him about that."

Sam looked over at Cas. "Come on, Mr. Angel. Let's get loaded up."

"I could try to transport us there, if you like. The car might be a bit much but I think I can do it."

"No, Cas," Sam responded. "I appreciate the offer but with you on low power I'd rather you saved your energy for potential emergencies. We'll get there just fine in the car."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Dean and his core pack members settled on the bus. All four of them traveled the same route, even little Mike Thompson but Dean was the furthest out. By the time the bus dropped him at the bottom of Bobby's driveway Sam and Cas were long gone. Hoisting his book bag on his shoulder the boy trudged up to the house.

Up the steps and through the door, Dean headed for the kitchen, the heart of Bobby's house. Bobby was standing at the stove whisking gravy in a pan. He turned when he heard the boy's footsteps.

"Here you are," he smiled at Dean. "Come on over here and help make your dinner. I'm not your mother." Bobby slid a step stool over in front of the sink.

"Sam and Cas are gone already?"

"Yeah kid. They left about four hours ago. They're part way through Nebraska by now. Get up here and wash your hands. I'm going to show you how to mash potatoes."

"What are we having, Bobby?" Dean asked. "Something smells good."

"That's the roast in the oven. I figure we can eat off that for a couple of days. Makes good sandwiches too; so get on up here and mash those taters for me."

Bobby and Dean spent a solid half hour working together. Dean proudly carried his mashed potatoes to the table. They might have been just a little lumpy but it was his first try. Bobby guessed that John Winchester in Dean's life was the same man in this life who thought a growing boy could exist on peanut butter and banana sandwiches with a side of whatever the kid could find.

The two of them had a nice dinner and Dean didn't appear to be depressed by the absence of Sam or his Angel so Bobby felt like this whole strange family arrangement might just work out. Bobby's house now felt like a home to more than an old man and a couple of pampered dogs. Bobby Singer would never go so far as to admit it but the house had previously felt empty and far too quiet.

After dinner Dean spread out his homework on one side of Bobby's desk and settled in. Bobby used the other side to work on some translations he had put off for a while. The Hunter's phones were silent. Sam and Cas were the only hunt currently in the field that Bobby had a finger on. He worked peacefully, glancing every now and then at the boy on the other side of the desk.

Dean's hair gleamed in the light and he gnawed on the end of his pencil.

"What 'cha doing, Dean?" Bobby finally asked, intrigued by the puzzled look on Dean's face.

"Math," Dean responded shortly. He read the heading from his text. "An introduction to Algebraic Expressions."

"Good luck, kid," Bobby snorted. "Keep it to yourself. If you got a problem there you're just going to have to wait until Sam gets back. I'm more of a liberal arts scholar myself."

"What does that mean?" The boy asked.

"No math," was Bobby's short answer. "By the way, how was school today?"

"Pretty good," Dean said. "The classes are just getting going and I've now got some guys who want to hang out with me so things are looking up."

"Nice," Bobby smiled. "Let me know if you need any help. Not with the math, but just about anything else."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

The Impala pushed on through the evening across the Nebraska prairie. Sam and Cas had worked out a rotation, four hours on and four hours off. Sam drove relaxed, slouched in the seat with his hands poised on top of the steering wheel, listening to music or talking to Cas.

Cas drove with great seriousness; hands at ten and three, staring straight ahead at the road and precisely at the speed limit as posted. Sam wondered if the Angel had simply learned to drive from the DMV pamphlet in the glove compartment.

Sam had realized the first time that they exchanged places that they had forgotten to make up a driver's license for the Angel. After watching Cas drive however, Sam was fairly confident that no one was going to pull the Angel over and ask for ID. If anything, the Angel drove too perfectly. Sam resolved to try to get the guy to loosen up somehow. At the moment the Angel was much too perfect to pass as a flawed human being.

Night on the prairie was an impressive sight. The plain stretched out from horizon to horizon. There were no hills or trees, only the gently undulating land. The night sky filled up the world, clear, dark, and alive with stars. The breeze of their passing ruffled the tall grass and the only sound was a faint far off howl of a coyote.

It could be anywhere in time. There was nothing to indicate the century except the car. Sam wouldn't have been surprised to be suddenly pursued by Sioux warriors mounted on painted ponies with war feathers braided into the horses' manes. As the stars cartwheeled around Polaris, Sam drifted into sleep. confident that Castiel would drive them onward to their destination.


	10. Chapter 10- Memories and Ghosts

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 10

**Memories and Ghosts**

Jess Crayton, the manager of the Victor Hotel in Cripple Creek took a hard look at the Ghost Hunters that Singer had sent. One of the guys was exceptionally tall and seemed awfully young to be as experienced as Singer had claimed. The other guy was of average height with sky blue eyes, good looking and very, very weird.

Jess had been the Hotel Manager most of his working life. He was also the boss on the Casino floor and he was no body's push over. If these two guys were running some kind of scam they were going to learn a lesson trying to take down Jess Crayton.

"Please take a seat, gentlemen." Mr. Crayton waved a hand at the leather guest chairs in front of his desk. "I'm going to assume that Mr. Singer gave you an idea about what we're up against here."

The younger guy took the lead. "I understand that this Eddie is a ghost that's been here for a very long time. It's only lately that he's turned mean on you?"

"You got it," Crayton said, responding to the kid but keeping his eyes on his strangely immobile partner. "Eddie's been here longer than me and I've been here over 20 years. He's a holdover from the old days of the Victor when Cripple Creek was a gold rush town.

"No one is really sure what happened to Eddie or why he's stuck in this place but he has a thing about the elevator. It's always been one thing or another with the lift. It either won't run or it runs constantly, stopping at each floor and opening and closing the doors on an empty cab. It freaks the guests out all the time. Good thing the Hotel is only four stories high. Most of the guests elect to use the stairs after their first run in with Eddie."

Castiel leaned forward in his chair and pinned Crayton's face with his eyes. "You believe you know who this Eddie is, don't you? You know more than you're telling us."

The Manager leaned back and looked at the kid. The blue eyed man's stare was too intense. He felt like those eyes could bore right through him and expose all his secrets.

The one called Sam laid a hand on his partner's leg and smiled. "Back off, Cas, you're scaring the civilians."

Mr. Crayton cleared his throat. "To tell the truth, your partner is right. My family has been in Cripple Creek for a very long time. Granddad came with the 49's and never made it to California. He stopped and settled here. There's an old legend that Eddie was really a gold miner who had a seizure and was declared dead. He was put up on the fourth floor with all the other corpses to wait for a spring burial."

"Unfortunately he woke up surrounded by dead people and, in his panic, tried to get out down the elevator. He forced the doors and fell down the shaft. Then he really was dead and they took his body back up to the fourth floor again."

Castiel spoke up. He tilted his head and stared at Crayton as if the man was something he wanted to study. "Why would you try to conceal this story? You weren't even born when it happen. No blame for the man's death can accrue to you."

Crayton could not sustain Castiel's piercing stare. He first glanced down at his desk and then redirected his eyes to Sam. "It's sort of a family secret. Granddad was the undertaker in Cripple Creek back then and he was the one who declared Eddie dead the first time."

Sam snickered. "The second time too, I suppose. I could see how Eddie might be carrying a grudge. Maybe even a grudge against your family. I'm not sure but perhaps the ghost knows who you are."

"Whatever reason this nasty dead sucker might have, " Jess Crayton opined, "he doesn't have a right to start pushing Hotel guests down the elevator shaft. Can you guys get rid of him or not?"

"If you can tell us Eddie's name and where he's buried Cas and I can most likely solve your ghost infestation tonight." Sam replied.

Jess Crayton laughed. "Ghost infestation, that's a good one; sort of like rats in the walls, right? You guys are just paranormal exterminators." Crayton laughed heartily at his own joke.

Cas was simply confused and looked to Sam for an explanation. "I'll tell you later, Cas, " Sam said. "Let's just get the job done for now and I'll explain the rats in the walls, later."

"Very well," Cas muttered. "I'm not here to kill rodents."

Jess Clayton stood up and moved over to a map of Cripple Creek he had framed on one wall. Sam went with him.

"Not really quick on the uptake, your partner, right?" Clayton murmured to Sam.

Sam answered. "Cas is a good guy. It's just that English isn't his native language. He catches up eventually and you couldn't ask for a better partner."

"Fine", Crayton responded. "Look here," he pointed to a green park like area on the map. "This is the Mt. Pisgah Cemetery. Luckily you don't have to go there. The graveyard for the common folk is off over here to the east of Mt. Pisgah. Like a lot of the buildings in Cripple Creek, the Mt. Pisgah Cemetery is listed as a Historic Site. It might be monitored or at least there may be frequent police passes. Grove Cemetery where Eddie is planted is on the same road but not watched like Pisgah."

"Why would the police keep an eye on Mt. Pisgah? Sam asked.

Crayton shrugged. "People steal the damnedest things. Why anyone would want a marble headstone for decoration goes right over my head but I understand the older they are the more they're worth. The headstones in Pisgah are over a hundred years old. Don't worry about that one. Here's Eddie's grave."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Late that night, under the crescent moon, Sam Winchester led Castiel, an Angel of the Lord, on the Seraph's very first salt n' burn. An odder pair might be found, but this one, and their reason for being where they were, would be very hard to explain to a judge so they were being very circumspect; very quiet and careful.

"You know, Sam." Castiel muttered sotto voce "this human being thing is very inconvenient." Castiel was struggling with a shovel, a can of gasoline and a slippery columnar box of salt.

Up in front, Sam huffed. He was carrying the salt guns, one already cocked and ready to fire, and the other under his arm. "Tell me about it." The young man said. "We should actually have brought two shovels just in case we have to speed it up but I figured the load was enough for now."

"Next time I get to carry the gun," the Angel said.

"Whatever you want O Angel of the Lord." Sam snickered.

For just a moment Castiel was thrown into the past and he heard another Winchester say those same words. For a moment he saw a smiling face with bright green eyes and a splash of freckles across the nose looking back at him. The pain of a love lost forever went through him like a knife.

"There's Mr. Eddie Lawson's grave," Sam said, pointed at a headstone and broke Castiel's mood.

The Angel looked up and Sam took the shovel from him. ""Here, take the gun. I'll start digging. When we get near the coffin is the time we'll start worrying about Eddie's ghost showing up. Since he's already gone vengeful in the hotel he's liable to be a real handful here."

Sam dug and Castiel inspected the shotgun. He had never needed one before but he was pretty sure he understood its use. The first thing was to not point it at Sam. Secondly he needed to keep a sharp watch out for Eddie's ghost. The ghost would attack the digger first if it could but the watcher was in just as much danger.

Sam dug steadily and soon had a respectable pile of dirt beside the grave. As Sam's action began to slow they switched off and Castile resisted the temptation to cheat a bit and use his Grace to move the heavy dirt. He had sworn to himself that he was going human all the way, even if it made him sweat.

He hit the top of Eddie's coffin and cleared off the dirt. Just as he brought down the shovel in a sharp blow to break the coffin lid open he heard a high pitch squeal and felt the spectral wind created by a ghostly manifestation. The shattering blast of the salt gun followed. Exposing the bones he pulled himself out of the grave and emptied the salt over Eddie Lawson's remains. As he was pouring the gasoline he heard Sam grunt and Castiel turned to see his young partner flying through the air, head first toward a headstone.

Taking a chance Castiel reached out and slowed Sam's flight. His intervention cushioned the eventual blow to Sam's head but didn't stop it completely. Sam hit the tombstone hard enough to stun him. Castiel saw the enraged ghost of Eddie Lawson preparing to charge the young Hunter again and he didn't wait for matches. He pointed one hand at the open grave and held the other hand up to freeze the ghost in place. The grave exploded in flame and the ghost stopped like it had run into a solid wall.

As the flames flared up out of the earth the ghost began to burn. Red traces of flames curled up its form and the last of Eddie Lawson burned. The ghost's hands, thrown over its head in despair disappeared with flames licking up the fingers like candles. Silence filled the graveyard except for Sam's moans of pain.

Castiel dumped the empty gas can and salt canister into Eddie's desecrated grave. As he went to Sam the Angel used a small amount of grace to push the dirt back into the grave behind him. It looked like a giant dog burying a particularly tasty bone.

Castiel knelt in the damp grass beside Sam Winchester's unconscious form and swept the bangs out of Sam's eyes. The Angel swiftly checked on the young Hunter's condition and ran his hands through Sam's hair, enjoying the sensation of the silky strands running through his fingers.

When he realized what he was doing he snatched his hands back. That had felt disturbingly nice. Castiel held his hands an inch away from the Hunter's skin and checked Sam's entire body for damage. There was nothing more serious than some bruises and a lump on the back of Sam's head.

Castiel sat back on his heels and considered the young man lying helpless before him. The Sam of this timeline was a disturbing mixture of Castiel's own Sam and Dean. The brothers in Castiel's world had distinctly different and yet strangely complimentary personalities.

In this world Sam Winchester was both the scholar and the sadly abused child. Every cruel remark John Winchester had lavished on Dean in the other world had fallen on Sam in this one. This world's Sam was quieter, more introverted and more damaged than Castiel's Sam.

Sam moaned again and moved his head from side to side.

Castiel gathered up the guns and the shovel, careless of his strength. He offered a hand to the slowly awakening Sam and pulled the young man up. Wrapping his arm around Sam's waist, with one of Sam's arms flung around his shoulders Castiel guided the way back to the Impala.

_..-.._..-.._..-.._

The morning that Sam and Castiel started the hunt in Cripple Creek Bobby drove Dean to school in his dependable old blue pickup truck. They had to disturb the sleeping Rumsfeld to use the truck and so she nominated herself as a third passenger and joined the trip to school. Dean took her seat, which she resented, and she spent the entire trip leaning on him to register her displeasure. Consequently when he was dropped off in the kissing lane he smelled like dog and was covered in dog hair.

"Never again," he muttered entering school. Even from something of a distance Eau de Dog was highly evident and got him some pretty weird looks in the hall.

Kerman appeared by his locker to discuss plans for the day and even he had to say something. "God, Winchester. Do they make you sleep with the dog?"

"Ha, ha," Dean responded. "Bobby's dog rode with us this morning and leaned all over me." Dean took off his jacket and hung it in the locker, hoping to dispel at least some of the smell. He realized that now he could find his locker by smell alone if the lights went out. He grabbed the books for his morning classes and spun the dial on the combination lock.

"My Dad is out of town and if I have to ride in Bobby's truck all week that dog is getting a bath tonight. I also have to vacuum that truck and get a heavy duty air freshener." Dean went down the hall with Kerman, mumbling all the way about Bobby's dog.

Of course, a bunch of firth graders have nothing more important to do than talk about the other fifth graders and by the time the story of Dean's cologne had been passed around he was either being made to sleep outside because his family didn't like him or he had a girl friend who smelled like a dog or his girlfriend was a dog.

No one dared to approach Dean himself or Kerman so by lunch time it was little Mike Thompson who was getting teased about his good friend Dean. Mike was trapped in the lunch room by the same pack of kids who Dean had rescued him from on the way to the bus stop and they were pushing the little kid back and forth.

It was unfortunate that Mike's tear ducts had a hair trigger and by the time Dean and Kerman arrived on the scene the kid was a blubbering mess.

"Hey," Dean shouted and started pushing his way through the pack of bullies.

"Oh, look," someone said. "It's dog boy himself. What's your girlfriend's name, Winchester? Rover?"

It wasn't smart. It wasn't good. By the time Dean spun around to see who was shooting his mouth off his right hand was already balled up in a fist and the centrifugal force added weight to the punch that he landed on the kid's jaw.

The boys' head went back, his butt went down and a tooth shot out of his mouth and hit one of the other kids in the face. Now that actual blood had appeared, one of the teachers on monitor duty intervened.

The hefty middle aged woman grabbed Dean's arm and shook him. Dean pulled away from her and yelled in her face. "Where were you when they were pushing Mike around, taking a beauty nap? You sure need one."

Dean heard what was coming out of his mouth and knew that Sam would not approve. He looked over to see that Kerman was taking care of Mike.

His captor shook his arm again. "Do that one more time lady and you will regret it." Dean snapped.

He was looking at the kid on the floor. He didn't even know the kid's name. He was just another faceless bully who got off picking on any one smaller than him. As far as Dean was concerned from now on the kid's name was toothless. Dean kicked out at the kid's leg. "Get up, you pig. I'm more your size, why don't you try to push me around?"

The rest of the kids dispersed to tables as far away from the action as they could get. Another teacher showed up with the school nurse in tow.

Dean glared at the woman holding his arm. "Aren't you here to take care of the little kids? Why did you let them all pile up on Mike?"

"You're coming with me, young man," the teacher snapped back. "Your father is going to hear about this."

She hauled Dean Winchester out of the lunch room and down the hall to the principal's office. Dean remembered when they had come to the school to register and there was a lineup of kids sitting on the chairs outside the principal's office. It had taken only just over a week to earn a chair of his own.

_..-.._..-.._..-.._

The Principal of Discovery Elementary stood at the window in his office, looking over the latest group of kids out on the playground for Phys Ed. Even from this distance he could spot the confident versus the coddled. They were playing softball and just the stance told him a lot about the child. There were those who were looking to attack the ball and there were those that were looking for the ball to attack them.

These kids were at that delicate age where an imagined slight or snub would bend their personalities for the rest of their lives. They were like clay pots not yet fired in the kiln. They still could be shaped; they could be bent or marred. Each one bore the imprint of their guardians, each one needed to be tended, healed, and protected.

The principal turned away for the window and glanced at the files on his desk. These were the kids waiting outside the office. It was his job to give them just that push that set them back on the correct path. There weren't those many, just three. The first one was a little girl who made a habit of stealing the other kids' crayons; a third grader. He felt pretty sure he could deal with that one. The next was a little more serious. He had been found hiding in the janitor's closet during lunch. That could be any of a number of problems, none of them easy and several of them possibly disturbing.

The last one however, was the kind an Administrator dreaded, a fighter. Pretty likely the kid was a bully. He had, after all, knocked another kid on his ass and a tooth had been lost. He could hear the other kid's parents right now. He could even imagine them sitting in front of his desk, all righteous indignation; demanding protection for their little darling and blaming the school for allowing thugs to run freely.

He snorted, imagining a 10 year old thug trolling the halls, looking for victims. He would see what he had when the kid was in front of him. He glanced at the name; Dean Michael Winchester.

He sat down in his high backed desk chair, leaned forward and buzzed for the little girl.

In a half hour he had dealt with an insecure little girl, the youngest of four who had learned at home to fight for her share of anything going. He hoped he had assured her that she could ask the teacher for anything she needed or, he told her, she could come to him any time at all and he would try to make it right. It was sad that there was no one at home to offer her the same support.

He gave serious thought to calling the high school and having the councilor there speak to the oldest sister. He made a note to do that before the end of the day.

The kid in the closet was being bullied by someone who took his lunch money every day. He wouldn't tell the principal who it was so the man offered the kid an alternative. He took the child out to the office and had one of the assistants set up a lunch fund for the little boy. If he could get the money to her every day she would pay for his lunches.

He picked Ms. Lawry for the job, confident she would have the little thief's name inside of a week. Ms. Lawry was good and sneaky. Problem solved and the kid looked at his new lady friend with eyes as big as they could get without rolling out of his head. Life would get better now for the kid. It would be infinitely better if the kid could find some friends his own age but the Administrator couldn't control that.

Before going back into his office he glanced at his last child, the Winchester boy. He halted for a moment. The beautiful little curly haired blonde was not what he was expecting at all. The kid looked like a little angel but no doubt he was more of a leprechaun instead. He stepped out in front of the counter and motioned for the boy to follow him back into his office.

Back in the office he had Dean sit in the big adult chair in front of his desk. The kid's had to climb in forward and turn in the seat. His feet swung freely. Normally the kid would have been directed to sit in the child's chair off to the side but kids who acted like pool hall bullies got treated like adults.

The kid drew his feet under himself and thrust forward so that one hand was resting on the principal's desk. With the other hand Dean picked up the name plaque from the front desk edge and settled back in his chair, tracing the letters with his fingers. "Principal Gabriel Angelus, PhD." The boy spelled out. "What does the pudd mean?"

Gabriel pursed his lips, trying not to smile. "It stands for Doctor of Philosophy." He answered. "It also means put my name plaque back where you found it."

Dean looked at Gabriel unafraid, staring into the man's brown eyes. "Alright, I just wanted to know. That's why I'm here right? To learn stuff, right? It's a school,"

"Did you learn to punch people in the face here?" Gabriel snapped, running his long fingers through his smooth blonde hair and pushing it off his face.

"No, I learned that somewhere else." Dean replied.

Gabriel stopped for a moment, not liking that answer at all. He searched the little boy's face, looking for old bruises.

"Tell me, Dean," Principal Angelus leaned forward. "Why did you punch Ricky Steward in the face? Do you think you had a good reason?"

"No," Dean replied. "There's never a good reason for punching a kid in the face. I should only punch monsters, not kids but he was picking on Mikey and Mikey's just a little kid who cries a lot. Then toothless got up the balls to try and push me around and I lost it. Sam is going to really give it to me when he gets back."

"Who's Sam?"

"Dad, I meant Dad. Sam is my Dad's name." The little boy retreated into his chair. "He's going to be really mad when he hears about this."

"When you said you were really going to get it, did you mean that your father will hit you?" Gabriel asked.

"Hey, none of that," Dean barked out. "Sam, Dad, he doesn't hit me but he has a glare that could freeze your balls off in July."

Gabriel almost took that one in his stride. "That's quite a mouth you have there, Dean," he remarked. "What does your mother say when you talk like that?"

The kid froze and Gabriel knew he had screwed up. That was an amateur's mistake. He quickly glanced at the file. There was no mother's name listed.

"She's been dead a real long time." Dean said grimly. "I don't know her well enough to know how she would take it."

Gabriel was about to kick himself around the room, pretty sure he had just lost any connection with the kid.

"Alright Dean," Gabriel gave up. "This is what we're going to do. Who's taking care of you while your Dad's out of town?"

"Uncle Bobby," Dean answered. "It's all Uncle Bobby's dog's fault anyway. If Rumsfeld had stopped leaning on me cause I was in her seat then I wouldn't have smelled like dog this morning and none of this would have happened."

"Ok," Gabriel stared down at the file, looking for an Uncle Bobby's authorization. He found Robert Singer and a phone number. "Let's just keep the dog story for the conference with your father."

"What conference?" Dean snapped his head up and looked into the Principal's face.

"I'm suspending you until your father can come in for a conference, Dean. We'll call your Uncle Bobby to come and get you."

"What about the other kid?" Dean asked. "Are you throwing him out too for picking on Mikey?"

Gabriel made a notation and closed the file. "That's not your problem, Dean." He replied. "Take this folder out to the front office and have one of the ladies call your Uncle."

"Wait a minute," Dean straightened and his feet hit the floor. "What about my classes? I have to keep my grades up or Sam will really get after me. I can't do that."

Gabriel was surprised. Grades were the last thing that kids thought of when they were in his office and threatened with the wrath of parents. No parent liked to be called on the carpet at his kid's school. Gabriel once again considered just what kind of punishment Dean's Dad handed out to cause such a reaction.

Gabriel leaned forward and buzzed the outer office. "Who's free out there for a small job?" he asked.

"I'll be right in Principal, a voice said. "It's Mrs. Johnson."

One of the older office assistants opened the door and entered. She was a pleasant faced woman with years of experience carved into her face behind her half glasses. "Mrs. Johnson, could you please call Dean's Uncle Bobby and tell his to come get Dean? Dean is being suspended for fighting but he is very worried about missing his classes so could you go to his afternoon classes and gather up his assignments to work on at home? "

Gabriel turned back to Dean. "Do you know when your Dad is due back?' he asked.

"Probably a couple of days," Dean answered. "Bobby will know."

Gabriel pulled a form out of his desk drawer and began writing on it. "Here's your official suspension but it is of indeterminate length and will not go on your permanent record as long as your father comes in to meet with me as soon as he comes back. He should bring you with him. After we talk about appropriate behavior in a school setting I'll let you back in class."

"Mrs. Johnson, please work something out with Dean's Uncle Bobby about getting the necessary assignments out to Dean. Thanks."

_..-.._..-.._..-.._

An hour later Dean was back in Bobby's truck, heading for the Salvage Yard. "Suspended for fighting, huh?" Bobby said. "I don't know what Sam is going to think of that."

Dean hunched over by the passenger window, clutching his back pack. "It wasn't even a fight. I just decked the kid for picking on Mikey and for being a smart mouth. It was a reflex. I didn't even think about it before I hit him."

"Besides,' Dean said. "It was all Rumsfeld's fault."

Bobby was a bit surprised. "Ok, when we get home you can explain to me and Sam on the speaker phone just exactly how my dog got you suspended. Right now, just sit over there and suffer in silence. I don't want any part of this mess to splash over on my boots."

They spent the rest of the ride back home quietly.


	11. Chapter 11- Daddy San and Daddy Castiel

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

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**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 11

**Daddy Sam and Daddy Castiel**

From Chapter 10

_Dean hunched over by the passenger window, clutching his back pack. "It wasn't even a fight. I just decked the kid for picking on Mikey and for being a smart mouth. It was a reflex. I didn't even think about it before I hit him."_

"_Besides,' Dean said. "It was all Rumsfeld's fault."_

_Bobby was a bit surprised. "Ok, when we get home you can explain to me and Sam on the speaker phone just exactly how my dog got you suspended. Right now, just sit over there and suffer in silence. I don't want any part of this mess to splash over on my boots."_

Chapter 11

Castiel answered Sam's cell phone when he saw the call was from Bobby. "Bobby, it's Castiel." He said. "Is everything alright?"

"As good as you can expect with your little darling getting suspended for fighting." Bobby grumped back. "Where's Daddy Sam?"

Castiel's dialect translator went right off line. "I am not very sure for what you just said, Bobby." Castiel answered hesitantly. "Sam is unconscious and resting right now. We just returned from the graveyard and unfortunately Sam was thrown at a headstone. It appears to have given him a mild, but not life threatening, concussion."

Castiel glanced at the sleeping Hunter. "I am planning on waking him up in twenty minutes. That is the schedule that Sam has established for concussions, although I can assure you that he is just fine. No hematoma is forming and he should be fine in the morning with only a mild headache to remind him of the incident. Now, what is it that Dean has done?"

Bobby huffed into the phone. "He's got his ass suspended from school and can't go back until Sam takes him in and meets with the school Principal."

Castiel sorted the information. "That seems a complex maneuver for getting Dean's ass back in school. If the ass goes back does the rest follow?"

Bobby laughed. "Did you just make a joke?"

"I think so," Castiel said. "I am trying to appear more human. Mr. Jess Crayton seemed to think that I had left of part of myself elsewhere. I am trying to learn how to blend in."

"What did the Hotel Manager say, exactly?" Bobby was curious.

"Mr. Crayton asked Sam if I 'was all there'. I forgot to ask Sam what that meant. Where else would I be? This is all very confusing." Castiel replied.

"Yep," Bobby said. "I can see we're going to have to work on the American idioms."

Bobby sighed. "Let me try to clear up the confusion that I have caused. Dean has caused a problem at school by striking another child. The head administrator of the school, the Principal, has decided that Dean cannot return to classes until a responsible adult; in this case his Father Sam, escorts Dean to a meeting with the Principal. "

"I understand now," Castiel said. "Do you think I am a responsible adult? Could I also attend this meeting? After all, Dean would not be here if I had not brought him."

Bobby laughed again. "Sure, Castiel; usually two adults responsible for the child do attend these kinds of meetings. You just check with Sam first. I'm sure he will be happy to oblige."

"Fine," the Angel replied. "When I wake him up I will discuss it with him. I believe we will be back in Sioux Falls by tomorrow evening. We have taken care of the ghost in the elevator and are ready to drive back. We would have been on the road already if not for Sam's unfortunate collision with the tombstone of Mrs. Ethel Ridgeway."

It seemed to Castiel that Bobby Singer was having trouble catching his breath. "Bobby, are you all right?" the Angel asked.

"I'm fine, Castiel." Bobby gasped out. "I just had forgotten how much fun you guys are to have around. See you tomorrow night."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Castiel shook Sam's shoulder. The Hunter opened his eyes and yawned. "What's up Cas?"

"It's time for a concussion check." Castiel responded. "I believe you are just fine but you insisted that you needed this,"

Sam yawned again and stretched his arms up and then tucked them under his head. "I feel normal, Castiel. You're probably right and I'd like to sleep the rest of the night. I wish I hadn't asked you to wake me up now. My head and my back are killing me."

"Here, take these pills. They'll help you go back to sleep. I could help relieve your back and neck pain if you like." Castiel said carefully.

"What would you do?" Sam smiled up at the Seraph.

"Take off your shirt and roll over." Castiel replied. "I'll give you a back rub and see if that puts you to sleep."

"Sounds good," Sam smiled and yawned so hard his jaw cracked.

Sam sat up and slipped off his flannel and then his T-shirt and dumped them on the floor between their beds. He also unbuttoned his jeans and lay back down on his stomach. His eyes closed and he relaxed, placing himself confidently in his partner's hands.

Castiel eyed the expanse of smooth rolling muscle. He noticed just a touch of a shiver and turned up the thermostat on their wall heater.

"Just relax, Sam, if you can. I've turned up the heat for you. It should be comfortable in just a couple of minutes." Castiel had considered the possibility of Sam accepting his offer of a massage earlier and had placed scented candles on the bedside table in anticipation. When getting Sam into the bed initially and removing Sam's shoes, Castiel had noticed Sam's tense muscles and wanted to get his hands on them then but Sam had dozed off almost immediately and the offer had died on the Angel's lips.

The Angel removed his trench coat and hung it off the end of the bed then proceeded to roll up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt. As Sam settled into the mattress and released his arms to his sides, Castiel kicked off his polished shoes and climbed on the bed. He had put a bottle of baby oil on the headboard with the candles. After settling into place on Sam's thighs he warmed a healthy dab of the oil between his palms then leaned forward over the man's back. Slicked by the oil the Angel's hands glided up and over the Hunter's shoulders smoothly and a moan of relief echoed in to room.

Castiel moved his hands on to Sam's neck and worked his fingers stiffly into the tight muscles. He kneaded each muscle bundle, getting them loose and soft. Slowly the tension went out of Sam's neck and his head waved back and forth, matching the rhythm of the Angel's hands. Another soft moan escaped.

With a wave Castiel ignited the candles and the scent of pine and cinnamon, underpinned by smoky sage, wafted through the air. He added more oil to his palms and warmed it then started to walk his palm down the Hunter's spine, flattening knots and smoothing muscles. Back at the top between Sam's shoulder blades Castiel started to sweep the long muscles flat and out, chasing tension and tossing it away.

On a pass of the longest muscles leading out to the Hunter's arms, Castiel leaned forward to reach out and down those long arms, massaging the biceps smooth and running his hands down Sam's arms to the back of the Hunter's hands. As he leaned forward to extend his reach the Angel's chest rested on Sam's back momentarily. In response to the touch of the Angel's skin and a huff of warm breath on his neck, Sam hummed and settled, completely relaxed.

After a long, slow series of tension releasing passes over Sam's back Castiel heard a change in the Hunter's breathing and realized that Sam had drifted off to sleep. Taking great care he slid off Sam's thighs and got off the bed, leaving the hunter prone, relaxed and asleep.

Sam's skin glistened in the candle light, highlighted by the shiny oil. His golden skin glowed with warmth and color. Castiel leaned over carefully and pulled the coverlet up over temptation removing it from view. The Angel moved over to the other bed and lay down, watching the Hunter sleep and contemplating a very human set of feelings culminating in a sense of desire rush through his vessel.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

At the salvage yard Bobby put the littlest bad boy to work. He sent Dean out into the yard with a parts check list and a tool box.

"Now don't go climbing up those stacks alone." Bobby said. "If you see a part you need and it's up high you come get me. You bust your neck out there and I don't care what Sam says, I'll tan your bottom. Got it?"

"Yes, Master." Dean bowed down. "I live to obey."

"Get out of here, smart ass." Bobby huffed. "Just because they threw you out of school don't mean you get to sit around and watch T.V. all day. You're going to work so hard you'll wish you were back in that school. As soon as the sun goes down you get back in here and do this homework. Maybe, I'll even feed you if you do a good enough job."

Dean clattered down the stairs on his way to a parts hunt. He loved this part of living in a salvage yard. It was like a treasure hunt and the kick he got out of finding yet another good part on an old junker was like panning for gold nuggets in a mountain stream.

Shading his eyes and looking at the westering sun he figured he had a good three to four hours outside. School was alright. At least it wasn't training but he did miss the outdoors. What few memories had been seeping back over the wall in his head were always of the outdoors; woods and fields and streams.

He could hear the wild far away cry of predatory birds high in the clouds, watching for prey. Bobby's yard was right on the edge of the civilized part of the cityscape. Just over the hill were the wild woods and the open plains, calling to him. He wondered if he could convince Sam or maybe Castiel to load up a back pack and go walking. He wanted to see what was over the other side of the hill. Maybe he could even go on to the next hill and the next, wanderlust calling him.

Pulling his head back out of the clouds he went to work on Bobby's list. He was glad of the distraction. He wasn't looking forward to appearing again in front of Mr. Principal Gabriel Angelus, Fudd and the work kept his mind off the inevitable. He knew Sam wouldn't even take a deep breath until Dean's butt was back on a hard wooden school chair and he was breathing the dust of the school's books again.


	12. Chapter 12 - A Parent-Teacher Conference

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

**A/N: **I am really sorry this update is late. I'm having eye surgery on Wednesday morning the 22nd and it has, for some reason, destroyed my ability to concentrate.

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**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 12

**A Parent - Teacher Conference**

**From Chapter 11**

(Dean) …. _could hear the wild far away cry of predatory birds high in the clouds, watching for prey. Bobby's yard was right on the edge of the civilized part of the cityscape. Just over the hill were the wild woods and the open plains, calling to him. He wondered if he could convince Sam or maybe Castiel to load up a back pack and go walking. He wanted to see what was over the other side of the hill. Maybe he could even go on to the next hill and the next, wanderlust calling him._

_Pulling his head back out of the clouds he went to work on Bobby's list. He was glad of the distraction. He wasn't looking forward to appearing again in front of Mr. Principal Gabriel Angelus, Fudd and the work kept his mind off the inevitable. He knew Sam wouldn't even take a deep breath until Dean's butt was back on a hard wooden school chair and he was breathing the dust of the school's books again. _

**Chapter 12**

It was early evening when the impala rumbled up to Bobby's house. South Dakota was sinking into twilight and the sharp, bright stars began to peek through the edge of night in the east while the sun threw streamers of glory into the western sky. The tall Hunter swung the driver's door open, muttering about WD40 when the signature door squeal interrupted the quiet. His Angel stepped out, footsteps crunching the gravel. His door didn't squeal and Sam threw a "Smart-ass" at Castiel.

Castiel held a glowing finger up over his head and pointed it at Sam. "It seems to work better than your idea." Castiel said. Sam snorted.

Bobby's screen door opened and the man himself stood in the frame. "Sam, Castiel, good to see you back again." The older hunter held the screen open. "Come on up, you're going to let the bugs in."

The two returning hunters climbed the steps and disappeared inside while Bobby moved over to the porch railing and leaned on his hands.

"Dean, come on boy," he called. "Sam and Cas are here. It's time to come in."

Dean was almost at the edge of the property, lying on the hood of a Ford F-150. He had finished another parts hunt for Bobby and his bag of goodies was resting up against the truck's front tire while the kid was tracing out the constellations with his raised finger as they rose into the night sky. Polaris was off to his right, Ursa Major and Minor pointing the way. He didn't hear Bobby or the Impala but knew it was time to climb down from his perch and go in as the darkness fell.

He knew Bobby would have to come looking for him as the older Hunter couldn't send out the dog. Rumsfeld was already here, guarding the parts bag on the ground and peering up at Dean. If the dog could climb she would be up beside Dean in a flash. Sitting, waiting and guarding the bag was second best.

He remembered a voice, repeating to him the names of the northern stars; Polaris, the North Star, so important to Hunters; Ursa Major and Minor, the Big and the Little bears; Draco, the dragon who never stopped flying and Camelopardalis, the giraffe. Dean named them over as they appeared. Someone had told him it was important to know his way in the dark and he couldn't put a name to the voice but the names of the stars were clear.

He clutched his unbuttoned flannel around him as the wind came down from the cooling North. Now he was more than ready to go in and sliding down over the sun baked paint of the truck hood he landed next to the bag surprising Rumsfeld off in a spasm of barking

He ruffled her ears and put the bag over his shoulder. There was barely enough light left to see where he was going. The moon wasn't up yet and he was too short to gaze over the tops of the piles of cars. Following his well-worn path through the jungle of moldering hulks he and Rumsfeld wound their way home. As he got a little closer he caught the sound of his name carried on the wind and upped his tempo.

Bobby was calling him. He didn't know if he was just late for homework or late for dinner or if Sam and Cas were back already. He clucked to Rumsfeld and he and the dog ran and dodged and headed for home.

As Dean pulled in sight of the house Bobby stopped calling and watch the kid tear out of the hulks and head for the steps. Rumsfeld peeled off and headed for her favorite spot on Bobby's truck hood. This one she could manage with some clawing at the grill. It was a good thing that the paint job was already shot or Bobby would have given her what for.

"Come on, boy." Bobby waved at him. "You got to do your homework before dinner and Sam and Castiel want to hear all about why you got suspended. Tell them the one about how it's all Rumsfeld's fault. You have to explain that more than once to Castiel otherwise he'll want to take the dog to the meeting."

Dean laughed. "Why would he do that?"

"Well. Castiel looks at things a little differently than we do." Bobby explained. "He probably would want her to apologize to the Principal."

It was warm inside Bobby's house and Dean was grateful. He had been so interested in the parts hunt and then in listening to that voice recount the names of the constellations he really hadn't noticed how chilly it had become.

He pulled up what was becoming 'his' chair to the kitchen table where his books were stacked up and hit the homework. Bobby was cooking and it smelled like fried chicken, one of Dean's favorites. He started seriously pencil pushing, rushing to get to dinner.

Bobby looked at him. "Take your time, Dean. The chicken won't be ready for a while." He man turned back to the stove.

A hand descended on Dean's shoulder and he looked up into Sam's eyes. "Just keep working, Dean." Sam said. "After dinner we'll get into exactly what happened in school and who I have to go see tomorrow to get you back in. Just keep working for now."

Dean looked beyond Sam to see Castiel standing in the kitchen arch. "Hi, Cas. Did you have fun?"

Castiel responded gravely. "It was very educational. I believe I now can be a more efficient partner for Sam. You were correct in assuming that it would be best for me to go with him. His concussion was treated much more promptly than it could have been any other way. I believe it will be a very effective partnership if we continue."

"Well, good," Dean said and turned back to his homework. He was supposed to be writing a short essay on an evening at home. This was a minefield. There were so many 'what the hell?' moments possible in describing an evening at home with the Winchesters that Dean was having difficulty with the assignment. He thought maybe it would be best to have Sam or Bobby read it over before he took it in to Mr. Martinez. He had already raised curiosity warnings in that class with his T.S. Elliot selection. A little bit of normal was called for, even if it was a lie.

For a moment Dean gave some thought about what would happen if he started his essay with a description of Sam, his father-brother and Castiel, his personal Guardian Angel. Mr. Martinez would definitely have something to think about then. Dean snorted and went on making up his completely fictional 'Evening with the Winchesters'.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Dinner was over and Dean was on trial. He decided to try and pull the cute card, if he could. The house's three adults were lined up on Bobby's couch like judges and Dean was on his feet on the other side of the coffee table.

"Tell me what happened, Dean." Sam said and Dean went into detail. He even included Rumsfeld's part in the disaster. At the end of the story Dean tilted his head down a bit, put a finger between his lips and looked up at Sam through his eyelashes.

Bobby snorted. "Look Sam, he's being adorable. Isn't it cute?" The older man laughed deep in this chest and took another swing of beer.

Sam looked at Dean. "Are you really trying to manipulate me, Dean?" he asked.

Cas chimed in. "I'm sorry. I don't understand what is happening here."

Sam turned sideways on the couch and drew a knee up on the cushions, brushing along Castiel's thigh. "The kid is trying to charm us, Castiel. The puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes, the finger at his lips; all these things are sending 'I'm so cute' signals out."

"Oh," Castiel took a look at Dean. "I believe I understand now. He's being intentionally attractive to achieve some end. What is that you want, Dean?"

Dean came around Bobby's coffee table and stood in front of Castiel. He pushed at the Angel's knees until he could wiggle in between them and then wrapped his arms around the Angel's waist and leaned is head against Castiel's chest. "Don't let Sam punish me." he said in a whisper.

Sam's head snapped up. "Dean, do you really think I'm going to hurt you over this? Why would you think such a thing?' Sam was honestly confused. "What have I ever done to make you think I would hurt you?"

Dean's eyes filled with tears. "It's what the other Dad did. When I screwed up I had to pay for it. "

Castiel wrapped his arms around the boy. "Don't worry Dean." The Angel murmured. 'Sam's not like that. He won't do that to you."

"What did that man do to you, Dean? Castiel, do you know anything about this?" Sam was furious. When he held a hand out to Dean the boy flinched away.

Bobby stood up. "Sam, calm down. You're scaring the boy."

Bobby came over, sat on the coffee table and turned Dean around in Castiel's arms. "Who hurt you boy?"

"I just remember that he got mad and it was my fault." Dean whispered again. "He wouldn't have hit me unless I screwed up."

Bobby looked at Castiel. "Did you know about this, Castiel?"

"I knew that it was a bad place for a child to grow up, on the road, often left alone in motels without food or protection. I did not know the man was beating him or I would have done something earlier."

"Sam, what about your John Winchester?" the angel asked. "Did he make a habit of hurting you?"

Now it was Sam's turn to look away. "The only difference was that my father didn't need a reason."

Bobby now raised his head and stared at Sam. "I'm sorry boy," the older man said. "If I had known I would have tried harder to keep you with me."

Sam nodded. "I know you would have, Bobby but it was a long time ago and I survived."

Dean again spoke up. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's OK Sammy. I don't think you are going to hurt me." The little boy leaned over and tried to put his arm around the Hunter. Of course, the boy just wasn't big enough. Sam turned back at the touch of Dean's hands and moved closer to the child and Castiel. He ran his fingers through Dean's hair and stroked the boy's cheek.

"It's going to be OK, Dean. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe." Sam said.

Castiel held Dean close and laid a consoling hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'll keep you both safe," he said.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably on the table and stood up.

"Where are you going, Bobby?" Sam asked.

"I'm going upstairs and get my violin," the gruff hunter said. "You guys are breaking my heart."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Early the next morning Sam Winchester called Discovery Elementary school and asked to speak to Principal Angelus, smiling to himself because he remembered Dean describing the man as Principal Gabriel Angelus, Fudd. If had taken a moment to realize what "Fudd" was and he had told Dean that PhD meant doctor.

Dean had insisted that if it wasn't "Fudd" then it had to be "Pudd" and which one did Sam prefer? Dean was easy to straighten out. It took longer to explain the joke to Castiel.

When Gabriel was finally on the phone Sam asked if they could come see him immediately so that Dean could attend school the rest of the day. The boy was already on his third day of suspension. The Principal had agreed to see then all at a10 AM.

Sam pulled the Impala into the visitor parking space outside the school entrance and he, Dean and Castiel all exited the car. Sam had been surprised and then amused by the idea that Castiel wanted to attend the meeting and introduce himself to Dean's Principal. Bobby had not told Sam about Castiel's request because the man had wanted to see Sam's face when Castiel suggested they go together.

Sam knew it would appear that he and Castiel were a couple and again he had to take time to explain to Castiel exactly why Sam thought the idea was funny.

"I believe that I am also responsible for Dean's behavior." The Angel told Sam. "I brought Dean here. Without my decision you would still be pursuing your chosen path in life. Perhaps I didn't fully understand how this plan would impact you."

Sam, Cas and Dean were now wading through hallways full of kids. Their ten AM appointment placed them right in the way of the fourth period class change.

Sam placed a hand on Castiel's arm. "Don't think of it like that, Cas. You and Dean are giving me a lot more than I had before. Now I have a family to protect as well as a world of innocents. I like it."

Just then Dean's friend Kerman came out of Phys Ed. Kerman's eyes lit up when he spotted Dean and he came right over to his friend.

"Dean!" Kerman slapped Dean's back. "Wow, it's good to see you. It's sucked that you haven't been here. Me and Jerry have been OK but we've had to take turns watching out for Mikey. Are you going to be back soon?"

"Kerman," Dean replied. "We're on our way to the Principal's office right now. I might be back by lunch time."

"Sam, Cas, this is my friend Kerman." Dean watched as Castiel seriously shook Kerman's hand, surprising the ten year old. "This is my….Uncle Castiel." Dean stuttered out. Momentary his mental wheels had spun trying to come up with a description of Castiel's relationship. "And this is my Dad, Sam Winchester. Sam followed Castiel's lead and shook Kerman's hand.

"Kerman," Sam said to him. "I thought that you were going to come home with Dean sometime. Have you guys set anything up?"

Kerman was not used to grow-ups treating him like an adult. He was more used to being ignored and talked over. "Not yet. I'm sure after Dean gets back in school we'll work something out."

"Good." Sam answered. "I'll look forward to seeing you again soon but right now we have to go get Dean back in school." The trio took off down the hall again with Dean leading out in front. They ignored the calculating looks being thrown at Sam and Castiel as the children parted in front of them.

Finally they reached the school office. Once inside it was certainly quieter than the chaotic hallways outside. The appearance of two extremely attractive men at the counter was noticed immediately by the office workers. Again there were a lot of speculative looks thrown their way especially after Dean stuck his head up over the counter.

Mrs. Johnson was in front of them in no time asking if she could help. They told her why they were there and waited while she conveyed the message to the Principal. In a matter of moments they were seated in front of the man.

Sam picked Dean up and held him on his lap much to Dean's displeasure but the boy settled down and remembered where he was and why he was there. If there was ever a time to play the little angel card, it was now.

Principal Angelus glanced up from Dean's records on his desk and took in the people in front of him. There was the angelic looking ten year old in the lap of a tall and equally adorable young man with slanted fox-tail shaped eyes and a cascade of silky looking dark hair. Seated next to him was a very alert looking and older dark haired man with piercing blue eyes. The second man definitely gave off an "on guard" aura and Gabriel chose to rest his eyes on the younger man.

Gabriel had a habit of keeping his personal life to himself but he sure wouldn't mind throwing his rules under the bus and going after this Sam Winchester. If Gabe was a dog his tail would be wagging and his leg thumping the floor under his desk.

"Good morning, gentlemen." The principal said rising to shake hands. Sam only leaned forward to reach, emphasizing his size and the length of his arms while the other man stood and grasp Gabriel's hand in a very firm grip. "I am Principal Angelus and I believe we are gathered here to discuss Dean's violent response to another student a few days ago."

Sam spoke up first. " Yes Principal"…Gabriel interrupted. "Please, call me Gabe."

"Thank you, Gabe." Sam went on. " I am Dean's father and Castiel, my partner, is like an Uncle to Dean."

Gabriel reconsidered "Uncle" Castiel. Evidently any path to Sam Winchester was blocked with a large boulder, his partner Castiel. Gabe settled into his chair and smiled back at Sam.

"We have discussed his behavior with Dean and I believe he has come to understand how completely inappropriate violence is with regard to settling disputes. I do have to point out, however, in Dean's defense, that he thought he was protecting a smaller child from bullies." Sam continued.

"Really?" Gabriel said, tenting his fingers together and staring at Dean. "So Dean felt justified in knocking a tooth out of another ten year olds mouth because Ricky Steward was bullying a smaller kid?"

Dean spoke up, unable to contain his indignation. "I thought that wasn't allowed in school any more. You know your lunch teachers weren't doing anything to make them stop and Mikey was crying his eyes out. What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, yes, the lunch monitors" Gabe smiled. "Did you really tell Mrs. Kaman she needed more beauty sleep?"

Dean went to open his mouth again and Gabe put his hand up.

Castiel spoke. "Of all of us Dean should know best that violence and physical threats are no way to settle arguments. I'm sure he won't do it again."

Gabriel looked over the child in front of him who was now staring back steadily. He saw no obvious signs of bruises and Dean didn't seem to be afraid of either his father or his "Uncle" so there were no outward signs of abuse.

Sam Winchester spoke up. "My father, Dean's grandfather, was a violent and abusive man. I am glad this incident was brought to my attention so promptly. I'll get Dean to understand that this is not the way to deal with problems. You can be sure of that."

Gabe smiled at Mr. Winchester. "Sam, I'm sure you and Dean will deal with this tendency and to prove my faith in you I'll allow Dean back in school immediately. "

"Dean," Gabriel looked into the little boy's eyes. "You understand no more hitting, right? You cannot solve problems that way. If you see any other bullying going on in my school I want you to come straight to me. I'll also speak to the lunch monitors about their slack supervision in the lunch room. Is it a deal?"

Dean nodded and put out his hand. "Deal." He replied, sliding off Sam's lap. His little hand was swallowed up in Gabriel's large one. Even so, they shook solemnly on the deal and Gabriel was pleased.

Gabriel stood up. "Alright Dean, off to class." The man looked at his watch. " I see you're going to be a little late for fourth period. I'll have l Mrs. Johnson prepare a note for the teacher." Gabe buzzed Mrs. Johnson with instructions to walk Dean to class and give the note to the new Social Studies teacher, Mrs. Aleman.

"Thanks, Principal, I mean Doctor Fudd." The boy was flustered and eager to leave the room.

"Dean, it's Principal Angelus." Sam corrected him.

"Oh, yes, of course, sorry." Dean was backing out and when he hit the door he turned and was gone.

"That's a great kid you have there, Sam." Gabriel said and reached out as the other two men stood up, getting ready to leave. He came around his desk while holding on to Sam's hand and put his other hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's one of the perks of my job to meet the children's parents. I'm very pleased to meet you." Gabriel squeezed Sam's shoulder lightly and then slid his hand down Sam's back. He was enchanted with the muscles he could feel under his fingers.

Castiel cleared his throat and placed on hand on Sam's free arm. "Thank you very much for meeting with us, Principal Angelus." Castiel said stiffly and pulled Sam away. "We have to go to work now so we will leave Dean in your care and get back to it."

As Sam turned to leave Castiel placed a hand on the small of Sam's back and guided him towards the door, casting hooded looks back at the Principal at the same time. Gabriel got the signal loud and clear. The only way Castiel's claim could have been more obvious was if he had waved a sign with "Mine" printed on it.

When they left Gabriel's room through the door to the outer office, Gabriel popped out his side door to get a real good look at Sam's ass as the man walked away. The Principal wasn't surprised to see two of the younger women from the outer office also hanging around their door watching the two men walk away.

It was a pretty sight and Gabriel shrugged. It was a free country and he was he to begrudge them the fun of watching that perky ass walk away? He was sure the teacher's lounge would be buzzing about Dean's Father and "Uncle" for the rest of the day.


	13. Chapter 13 - Dark Clouds

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 13

**Dark Clouds**

**From Chapter 12**

_When they left Gabriel's room through the door to the outer office, Gabriel popped out his side door to get a real good look at Sam's ass as the man walked away. The Principal wasn't surprised to see two of the younger women from the outer office also hanging around their door watching the two men walk away. _

_It was a pretty sight and Gabriel shrugged. It was a free country and he was he to begrudge them the fun of watching that perky ass walk away? He was sure the teacher's lounge would be buzzing about Dean's Father and "Uncle" for the rest of the day._

**Chapter 13**

He had parked a half block from the bus stop just so he could watch for a good long time. His hands gripped the steering wheel and slid down, greased by his sweaty palms. Eyes glued on the rear view mirror he saw the group of little boys far down the block and ran his eyes over them possessively.

There was the tall, thin black kid, the littlest boy was out in front, like usual, with a big smile on his face, the kid he called 'the geek' in his head and, there he was, the prize. The prize was a compact, confident little bundle. He had gotten close enough to the boys to know that the prize had bright green eyes and a spray of freckles over his nose.

He momentarily closed his eyes, the flush of arousal spreading up his chest to his neck then settled in his ears, making them buzz and burn. For just a few seconds he imagined the prize in his grasp, naked and afraid. He loved the tears, the warm flesh quivering in his hands, the little boy screams. Soon, soon he would make his move and take the boy away. He already had the place set up. No one would know. No one would hear.

He opened his eyes, unwilling to lose a moment, even for his fantasies. The boys were closer now. He could hear the chatter of their voices, the occasional laugh. As the boys got closer to his truck he thought he could pick out the voice that belonged to the prize. The kid seemed to be the leader, his voice measured and sure. The other boys replied, calling him Dean.

The man in the truck clutched the knowledge to himself. The prize had a name. His name was Dean. The man imagined cooing to Dean, whispering the name as he marked that pretty soft skin and fondled those smooth, hairless limbs. Dean, Dean, he murmured, fitting the name into the hollow of his mouth, into the world of his fantasies.

The boys drew near and then were level with the truck. This was the dangerous time. As much as he wanted to he could not stare at the kids. They might remember. The other boys would tell about the guy who stared at them. The only one who had ever noticed him was the prize. Those bright green eyes had looked full in his face last week when he was watching the group leave the school at the beginning of their walk to the bus.

It didn't matter if the prize had marked him. The prize wouldn't be around to tell the police about the man in the truck. As the boys passed he looked out the driver's side window, away from them. It almost hurt to take his eyes off the boy but it had to be done. He didn't want to take the chance that the nosey cops would interrupt their time together. He was literally shaking in anticipation and he watched as they walked away, his eyes caressing the prize from the back of his head, down his back and over that cute little butt. Soon, very soon.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Sam stood on Bobby's porch alone. He gazed out over the trees to the edge of the sky. Bobby's house was beginning to make him itch. He felt the clinging embrace of responsibilities. Now he was supposed to be Dean's father – brother. Castiel was becoming his partner. Bobby wanted them all to live with him.

Sam had been alone since that last fight with John Winchester. The taste of freedom was what had driven him out the door and into the world to face it on his own. The sense of freedom was almost like being drunk. No more waiting for his father to return. No more questioning if it would be a good night or if he would be waking up in the morning as bloody as if he had gone on the hunt himself. Sixteen years old he had gone out on his own to grasp his life with both hands, leaving John Winchester to stew in his own venom.

Now he seemed to be growing a shell of attachments. Yes, he felt responsible for these people but it was so much easier when he was out on the highway, driving from haunted scene to monster hunt.

To be held to a single place when he could be out standing in the wind, feeling the hidden life behind the façade of the real world was where he felt he belonged. He didn't want to run away. He didn't want to abandon any of them but if he didn't get a break soon he might just do it. Perhaps a hunt would sooth him; a hunt without Castiel. Let Castiel stay here and let him go. Maybe another Hunter needed a backup. He would have to ask Bobby to find something.

Then he would explain himself to Dean and Castiel. He would just have to face Dean's soulful eyes that might just fill with tears. He would have to explain to Castiel while the angel cocked his head to the side, trying like hell to understand human motivations. Bobby would understand without an explanation. The older hunter had watched Sam come and go over the years, never interfering, grounded in the knowledge that short of death, Sam would always come back.

Sam came back either damaged and returned to lick his wounds until they healed or he would come back on top of the world, renewed, energized and ready for the next challenge. Bobby was always good for either situation. Sam hoped that Bobby could point him in a direction right now. He could simply walk off this porch, get in the car and drive away but he know he would feel guilty the whole time.

In addition, his new partner was an Angel. He was pretty sure that Castiel would start out hunting for him, just to make sure that everything was alright. It would be better to just explain his need for solitude and let them swallow it. He had visions of Castiel bringing Dean with him as they hunted him over the landscape.

Castiel had told him that these marks that were carved into his ribs hid him from Angel and Demons but who knew how Angels searched. Maybe Castiel could smell him or something. No, it was better to explain and then walk out freely.

Sam made up his mind and turned to go back in the house. His hands felt empty without the usual beer bottle. See, they were changing him already. He wasn't drinking because it upset Dean. Of course, he also didn't want to end up just a copy of John Winchester so he had some skin in the game also. It was just another thing to attribute to this new life. He kind of wanted his old one back again.

Tonight, after Dean got home from school, they would sit down and talk about it. In the meantime he was going to go see what Bobby could find for him. Already he was shedding some of his tension now that he had a plan.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Sam wandered through the house looking for Bobby. He found Castiel sitting at Bobby's desk in the room that Bobby called his living room but everyone else called the library. Castiel was paging through one of Bobby's oldest books, slowly turning the heavy pages and taking notes.

"Hey, Cas," Sam said. "Do you know where Bobby is?'

Castiel lifted his head, holding the book down delicately with a single finger and looked around. "Until a few moments ago he was right here with me." The Angel replied. "I am translating this passage for him. I did not notice when he left. "

Castiel turned in his chair and looked down the rows of book cases behind him. "Perhaps he has gone back to find another volume. I suggest you look there." Cas waved his hand in the general direction of the back end of the room and went back to his work.

Sam stopped and stared down at Castiel's head. The Hunter was not oblivious. He knew that Castiel had been making careful moves on him. Sam had the feelings beat out of him a long time ago. He had no urge to touch other people. As a teenager he had learned that to be touched was to feel pain. Perhaps it could be different with an Angel. Sam wondered for a moment how it would feel to have Castiel's hands on his body.

The hunter shook the thought out of his head and went on looking for Bobby. In the furthest corner, hunched over an entirely inadequate light, he found Bobby looking over another old book.

"Hey Bobby," Sam interrupted.

"Hey yourself Sam," Bobby greeted him back. "You need something?"

"Now Bobby I don't just talk to you when I want something." Sam said, embarrassed.

"Not in my experience," Bobby replied. "Don't worry about it, boy. It's what us old guys do, twist the young guy's tails. By the way, thanks for bringing Castiel home with you. He's a goldmine. I really appreciate it."

Bobby came around the side of the bookcase. "You want to go back to Cas or do you have something you want to talk about privately?"

Sam was always amazed at how easily Bobby could read him. Sam prided himself on his poker face. It evidently did not fool Bobby Singer.

"Privately, please Bobby. I have a problem and Castiel is part of it."

"Don't worry, Sam." Bobby waved him forward. "Come around back here, There's a door here to the back end of the house."

Once outside Bobby sat down on a rickety old garden chair just outside the door and pointed to another one for Sam. "What's up?"

"I got an itch, Bobby." Sam admitted. "I need to get out on a hunt for a week or so and I don't want to take Cas or Dean along. You got anything I could hook into without a partner? Someone needs back up or even just a drive to an investigation?"

"Is there anything wrong between you and Castiel?" Bobby asked seriously. "I thought you guys were forging a pretty good partnership."

"No, no, nothing Castiel has done," Sam went on. "It's me. Like I said, I've got an itch. I guess I spent too many days alone and this partnership thing is rushing in on me along with the whole being Dean's Dad now too. I just need some time to settle it all in my head."

Bobby patted Sam's knee. "Maybe you're right. You should get away for a while and let your mind adjust to the new situation. It's a lot to have land on you all at once. You're all alone one day with just an apprentice hunter to train then, bam; instant partner, instant kid. It's a big change for you."

"Thanks Bobby. I feel better about it already. If it makes sense to you could you help me explain it to Castiel and Dean? I'd like to talk it over with them tonight after dinner. I would appreciate your help. If you step in perhaps Dean won't be so unset with me leaving for a little while."

"You got to be careful with the kid, Sam." Bobby said. "It sounds to me like his John Winchester was just as bad as yours. The kid got left behind a lot. "

"I feel for him, Bobby, I do." Sam responded. "It was the worst thing in the world. To be left behind in a smelly motel room to sit and wait for days, all alone and just wonder if he was ever going to come back. To sit there day after day trying to figure out how to get something to eat, how to stay safe and what you would do if Dad never came back. "

"I'm working on getting the kid to trust me," Bobby said. "If he knows that I'll keep him and I'll always be right here a lot of that pain should go away. Besides, now he has Castiel, his Angel, too. We did fine while you guys were gone on the Hotel hunt. He should do fine again. The one that's all worried is you. Feel better now?"

"Yes, you're the best, Bobby." Sam stood up and stretched. "I'll make dinner tonight, if you like. What do we have to cook?"

"Good, deal, Sam," Bobby answered. "I have everything out to make spaghetti. Sure would be nice to have somebody wait on me for a change. You go on in and get to work. I'm just going to sit out here for a while and watch the sun go down."

Heading for the kitchen Sam passed Castiel working away on the translation. Pausing for a moment he put his hand on Castiel's shoulder and leaned in to look at the Angel's work. Castiel looked up at the unusual gesture.

"How are you doing Castiel?" Sam asked.

"The translation is going well. I hope that Bobby is pleased with my work. I have enjoyed it and would not mind doing more for him. Where is Bobby, by the way?" Castiel turned his eyes back to the book.

"Bobby stayed outside to watch the sunset." Sam replied. "Whatever floats his boat. I'm on my way to make dinner for us all. I hope you like spaghetti."

Castiel was again confused. "Bobby has a boat? I have never seen a boat here. And whatever spaghetti is I'm sure I'll enjoy it."

Sam laughed and patted the Angel's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Cas. To float your boat is a idiom that means to do as you are pleased to do. Bobby is watching the sunset because he enjoys doing so."

"Very well," Castiel said. "Thank you for the explanation. These idioms abound. It may take a while for me to learn them all."

Just then the men heard the screen door slam and then the front door close. "I'm home!" Dean cried out. "Where is everybody?"

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

After a pretty good spaghetti dinner, prepared and served by Sam wearing an apron, the table was cleared and the dishes were washed, with Dean's help. They then settled back down at the table with steaming coffee mugs for a family meeting, as Sam described it.

"Castiel, Dean, I wanted to discussed something with you." Sam started off seriously. "I'm most likely going to be leaving for about a week to back up another Hunter by myself. But more than that, I'm going away to think about this new life of ours."

Dean moved off his chair and went to stand beside Castiel, focusing his now huge eyes on Sam's face. "Did I do something wrong? Do you not want to be my Dad now?"

This was the reaction that Sam had dreaded. "No, no, Dean. Don't worry. I'm coming back. I just need a little time to myself to get used to the idea having a family. It's a big change for me. I've been alone since I was sixteen."

"Before you talk about leaving me," Dean said. "I have something I want to tell you."

"Damn it Dean, I'm not leaving you. It will only be for maybe a week and you'll have Castiel and Bobby here for you. Don't make this harder than it needs to be. I'm not giving you up."

Dean moved into the circle of Castiel's willing arms. "Ok, fine. I believe you but what I wanted to say is that I been being followed all week by some guy in a white pick-up truck."

"What do you mean by followed, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"Well I saw him first last week sitting on the other side of the road from the school when we all came out. "He was just sitting there, staring but it felt like he had looked at everybody and then found me. He was creepy. When he saw I was looking back at him he started his truck and drove off."

"I wrote down his license plate number just because he made me nervous. Then I started seeing him pretty much every day. He's always parked in the street along the way me and the guys walk to the bus. He moves around all the time and pretends not to be looking but it's the same stupid truck.

"I really don't like the sound of this," Bobby Singer said.

"Neither do I," Sam added. "What else, Dean?"

"He's always watching us in his rear view mirror." Dean answered. "He thinks we can't tell but I can. I can see his eyes. He might be looking at little Mikey. I hope he's not but it's possible. Mikey always walks out front. Somehow though, I think it's me he's watching. I think he's stalking us like a hunter stalks a deer trail. He turns and looks the other way when we get close but he's not fooling me."

"What do you want us to do about this, Sam?" Castiel asked. "I will guard Dean while you are gone but what if the man is after Dean's little friend? What should I do?"

"First of all," Sam answered. "I'm not going anywhere. Dean is more important than my desire for solitude. I can go whenever but all I will be thinking about is Dean in danger. We need to settle this before I even think of leaving. What do you think we should do, Bobby?"

"The first thing should be to tell Sheriff Mills that she has a possible predator stalking kids at the elementary school." Bobby said. " Maybe she knows something. If she doesn't have anything then we'll need to draw this guy out for her and identify him. I'm thinking maybe we need to set a trap."

Bobby looked at Dean very seriously. "Immediately through I don't want Dean walking around unarmed. The kid should at least have a knife on him. Right now he's as harmless as a baby deer. We need to give the kid some bite."


	14. Chapter 14 - A Different Kind of Hunt

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 14

**A Different Kind of Hunt**

**From Chapter 13**

_First of all," Sam answered. "I'm not going anywhere. Dean is more important than my desire for solitude. I can go whenever but all I will be thinking about is Dean in danger. We need to settle this before I even think of leaving. What do you think we should do, Bobby?"_

"_The first thing should be to tell Sheriff Mills that she has a possible predator stalking kids at the elementary school." Bobby said. "Maybe she knows something. If she doesn't have anything then we'll need to draw this guy out for her and identify him. I'm thinking maybe we need to set a trap."_

_Bobby looked at Dean very seriously. "Immediately through I don't want Dean walking around unarmed. The kid should at least have a knife on him. Right now he's as harmless as a baby deer. We need to give the kid some bite."_

**Chapter 14**

The family moved away from the kitchen table into Bobby's library. Castiel kept his hand on Dean's shoulder, worried that the little boy might possibly be more frightened than he appeared. Yes, Dean had been raised a Hunter's son but that didn't mean he was fearless. He had learned to bury his fears, to hold then down and be brave but even so that didn't mean he couldn't feel the pain of those emotions. It only meant that he had learned to hide the pain from others.

When they resettled into the other room Sam held his hand out to Dean hoping the child would come to him. It bothered Sam that Dean turned to Castiel first for protection. It was an understandable choice but Sam took it as his fault that the boy made the choice without even thinking about it. Sam was aware that he appeared to be a closed off emotionless dick.

His walls had been erected initially to protect him from his father's cruelty. They were now so thick that no one could breach them, even when Sam wanted to let another person in. The desire for the warmth of love and friendship had been extinguished for so long Sam didn't know how to relight the fires. Bobby was the only person who had been allowed a few small glimpses of the lost child inside Sam. Now Sam was hoping to allow Dean and possibly Castiel to scale the ramparts. Sam took another glance at Dean resting with such confidence in the Angel's arms and the Hunter felt a pang of an almost unrecognizable emotion, jealousy.

Castiel noticed Sam's aborted gesture and bent forward to whisper in Dean's ear. "Dean, go over to Sam. I think he needs you."

It was the perfect thing to say to Dean. The boy was not easily ordered to do something but an appeal to his protective side was always successful. Dean had ignored Sam's hand only because he felt safe and comfortable in Castiel's arms.

The boy studied Sam's face and recognized a fellow sufferer. The man's face was still and expressionless and his eyes were cold and empty as an artic field. Dean thought he just might be able to crack Sam's icy mask of indifference and these were heavy thoughts for a ten year old. Most ten year old boys were too much concerned with themselves to want to ease another's pain but Dean was not an average boy. His copy of John Winchester had not had time to beat all the empathy out of his son.

Dean untangled himself from Castiel's arms and moved over the stand beside Sam. He rested his forearm on the arm of Sam's chair and waited for Sam to make the first move. Dean treated the man as he would have treated a frightened animal. He made no sudden moves and asked for nothing. Sam finally reached out, laid his arm across Dean's back and hung his hand on the boy's shoulder. It was enough for both of them. It wasn't a particularly comfortable stance but it was a start.

During all the by-play Bobby had been digging through the drawers of his desk. The older Hunter finally found what he was looking for and laid a knife on the desk. It was a pretty thing, all silvery and smooth. It was a thin and light knife, almost feminine in its deadly way; a knife for a lady or possibly a child.

"Dean," Bobby said. "I have to find an ankle sheath to fit you but this is now your knife. Have you ever worked with a knife?"

"Yea, I think I must have." Dean said. Sam had leaned forward and picked the knife off Bobby's desk and handed it to the boy. "It feels familiar."

The boy balanced the knife in his hand then flipped it and caught it by the point, definitely preparing for a throw.

"Hey, hey," Bobby huffed. "No knife throwing in the house. You and Sam can go outside and practice on something better than my couch cushions or my walls. I have to hunt up and modify that ankle sheath for you."

Bobby looked at his wall clock. "Why don't you guys go out a practice a bit before it gets dark? I'm going to trying and reach the Sheriff. We can talk later about what to do tomorrow to keep Dean and his friends safe from this guy."

Dean, Sam and Castiel all picked up and went outside to catch the last of the sunlight and to watch Dean complete twenty foot throws into the defenseless bark of one of Bobby's trees. If was very obvious that the little boy had been trained and trained well.

Dean had accompanied his throws with a stream of consciousness ramble about what he was killing. "Take that!" he yelled as he released the knife. When it struck and sunk into the wood he danced and celebrated his 'kill' of a black dog or a werewolf or a flying night predator. Sam and even Castiel joined in the game, calling out the names of monsters that the little boy killed and they all dissolved in laughter as the boy's kills became bigger and bigger and even more impossible.

By the time the sun set they were all laughing and windblown. The night was settling in and Dean's fingers were getting cold. None of them were really dressed for a nippy South Dakota night. When Sam called a halt to the game and they headed for the house there were no arguments.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

The windblown group clattered through the front door, still talking and laughing. Even the Angel seemed to be enjoying himself.

Sam called out "Hey Bobby, where are you?' The older Hunter's voice came from the kitchen. They found him brewing a new pot of coffee. On the stove a pot of hot chocolate steamed away.

"Did you get the Sheriff on the phone?" Sam asked as he carefully filled a mug with hot chocolate for Dean. Handing it off to the boy Sam moved over to wait for the coffee, leaning on the counter next to Bobby.

"Yes, I talked to her." Bobby answered. "She checked out that license number and came up with a sixty eight year old woman named Ruth Bader. Sheriff Mills has gone to talk to the lady to find out who she's been loaning her truck to."

"The Sheriff is going to call us back and let us know if she's found the guy. Even if she does, nothing's happened yet so all she can do is warn him off. Now that the guy is on the Sheriff's radar she's going to check around and see if she can find any unsolved child abductions that she can link to him."

"Right now it's just a warning so we'll have to take care of guarding the kids ourselves until Sheriff Mills finds some reason to arrest him. She's going to tread lightly so not to scare him off. When she talks to Mrs. Bader she's going to say that her truck was seen at an accident and they want to know if the driver witnessed the crash."

"I have a suggestion," Castiel spoke. "I could take on the task of driving the boys back and forth to school until this man is caught."

"I don't know, Castiel," Sam said. "That might work for a week or so but what if the Sheriff can't connect this guy to anything?"

"What if we guard our four boys and he switches to another kid? How would we feel if our kids are safe and some other family loses theirs?" Sam went on.

"We need to get this guy off the streets." Bobby added. "Let's give the Sheriff a day or two and see what she can turn up. If nothing happens then I say that we turn this into a hunt. There's the three of us and, if necessary, I can call a couple of other guys in for a day or two. I can probably even find some guys with kids who would be happy to help. The only bad part would be that we're going to have to use the kids as bait."

"Alright," Sam said and stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "For now we're going to take care of the four boys by driving them for a day or two. That shouldn't scare the guy off. It's happened before. We'll give the Sheriff the next two days, Thursday and Friday and If she can't help then we get a hunt set up starting Monday morning. "

Dean turned to Sam. "Do you think that maybe I could bring Kerman and Jerry home with me on Friday night to stay the weekend? Could you teach them how to handle a knife? We'd all get kicked out of school if we got caught but I sort of don't want to be the only one out that who's armed. I would feel safer if I knew they could help too."

Bobby snorted into his coffee. "This guy's not going to know what hit him at this rate. Let's hope that Jody come up with something before we end up arming the entire sixth grade."

"I don't think it's a very good idea, anyway." Sam said. "If Dean ends up stabbing the guy he has his redneck family to back him up. If the other kids start showing up with knives we are going to end up with a huge can of worms."

Castiel couldn't hold it in any more. "We are rednecks? What are rednecks? And where are we going to get a can of worms? Why would someone give us a can of worms? I do not understand this conversation."

"Calm down, Castiel." Bobby laughed. "I'll try to explain to you later what a redneck family might be but for right now just remember that no one would be surprised if they found a knife on Dean and then found out his family lives in a salvage yard. They would call us rednecks. The idiom "a can of worms" simply means a lot of trouble."

Sam turned back to his interrupted conversation with Dean, "Why don't you go on and invite your friends over for the weekend? We can at least teach them some defensive moves." Sam laughed. "I can even teach them how to take down a full grown man if there's a groin cup around here somewhere,"

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

The next day Sam took the Impala and picked up Dean's friends for school. He had not really considered what it might mean to have four pre-teens in the car. They were four very intelligent and curious little boys. They asked question after question about the Impala and were very impressed when they found out the car was forty seven years old.

"That's older than my Dad," Jerry exclaimed.

"That's most likely older than any of your parents." Sam said, trying to stun the kids into silence. It didn't work and he ended up listening to a squabble about whose parents were the oldest followed by another argument about whose parents were the youngest which Dean won hands down with Sam's twenty four."

One of the boys sat still for a while and did some quick calculations.

"Mr. Winchester," finally Kerman asked "were you really just fourteen when Dean was born?"

The immensity of this statement struck home when they boys all realized they would be fourteen in just a very few years. Sam felt the back of his neck heating up but there was nothing he could say except "Yes."

His answer was greeted with a universal "Wow" and the back seat of the Impala got pretty quiet. Dean sat in the shotgun seat and just grinned at his very embarrassed Dad.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

On Friday afternoon Ruth Bader's son Jerry sat in his mother's white truck, out in the street watching for the little boys to walk to the bus. He was tense and frustrated. The prize and his group of pals had not paraded by Jerry yesterday afternoon. The man missed his green eyed boy. Long after the scheduled departure time for the bus the boys had not appeared and the man took a chance. He went to the Elementary School and drove past the entrance.

He was thinking that he might get lucky and find the boys standing outside waiting for rides after missing the bus. He built up an entire scene in his mind where the prize consented to get into the truck when offered a ride home.

The boys were nowhere in sight and he drove home disappointed and furious. He never even noticed the Police car following him. Once in the house he had ignored his mother's questions about dinner and had locked himself in his room. He laid on his bed with his pants down, fisting himself and running his fantasy over and over on the movie screen behind his eyelids.

He imagined green eyes pulling himself up into the truck, grateful for the offer of a ride and chattering out the directions to the Salvage yard. Jerry smiled at turning off the road and ignoring the boy's objections. By the time they pulled up in from of the closed motel the little prize knew something was seriously wrong and tried to escape. Jerry swept the child up in his arms and carried him to the room in back where he had everything all set up.

At this point in the fantasy Jerry became more and more excited. He almost could taste the child's sweet flesh. He visualized tearing off the boy's clothing and running his hands over the delicate limbs. Every inch of the child was his and he sucked bruises into the fragile skin while his hands explored all the secret, hidden places.

At the height of his fantasy, visualizing the rape of the virgin body Jerry exploded in organism all over himself, his bed and his clothes. For the first time in hours he was at peace. His tension drained away but he knew it would be back. Lying there in his mess he decided that tomorrow was the day. It would be Friday and with any luck he would have days to play with his prize before he had to kill the little darling, hide the body and come back home. As he thought about the child's death he felt his arousal starting up. He closed his eyes again and watched he scene play out in his mind as he reached for his dick once more.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

It was Friday afternoon. Jerry was so excited he was almost vibrating. Parked in his usual place at the corner near the bus stop he waited breathlessly for the prize to appear. Just like Thursday he waited and waited but the boys didn't come by. He put out a hand to quiet the puppy he had picked up at the pound earlier to use as a lure.

He intended to let the dog out of the truck to run in the street when the kids came by. He was sure it would be the prize that would bring the puppy back to the truck. The prize was the leader of his little gang. He was sure to take charge of the dog. Jerry would entice the kid into the truck to continuing petting the animal. Then he would take off and all his dreams would become real.

He became impatient when the boys didn't appear and he started the truck and drove towards the school. As he turned to cruise in front he saw the boys getting onto a big, dark mean-looking muscle car. The boys all climbed in to the back as there were two men in front.

If Jerry had a gun he would have shot the driver and tried to take the kids. As he drove slowly by the car glaring at the men he noticed that the guy in the passenger seat was staring at him. Even from the distance of six or more feet he could see the incredible color of the man's eyes. There were a intense clear blue and seemed to pierce him to his soul. He turned his head away concerned that the guy would read his intensions on his face.

Jerry hit the gas and drove back to the bus stop. He knew he had lost the prize. It was more pain than he could stand and right then he decided that he simply could not wait any longer. He might not have been able to win his prize but there were other sweet pieces of unguarded flesh walking the streets. Passing a clump of young boys he pulled to the end of the block and pushed the dog out the door. This was it. Whoever picked up that dog would take the place of his lost prize. He couldn't bear the tension one more minute.


	15. Chapter 15 - Taking Jerry Down

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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

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**A Wandering Boy**

Chapter 15

**Taking Jerry Down**

**From Chapter 14**

_He became impatient when the boys didn't appear and he started the truck and drove towards the school. As he turned to cruise in front he saw the boys getting onto a big, dark mean-looking muscle car. The boys all climbed in to the back as there were two men in front._

_If Jerry had a gun he would have shot the driver and tried to take the kids. As he drove slowly by the car glaring at the men he noticed that the guy in the passenger seat was staring at him. Even from the distance of six or more feet he could see the incredible color of the man's eyes. There were an intense clear blue and seemed to pierce him to his soul. He turned his head away concerned that the guy would read his intentions on his face._

_Jerry hit the gas and drove back to the bus stop. He knew he had lost the prize. It was more pain than he could stand and right then he decided that he simply could not wait any longer. He might not have been able to win his prize but there were other sweet pieces of unguarded flesh walking the streets. Passing a clump of young boys he pulled to the end of the block and pushed the dog out the door. This was it. Whoever picked up that dog would take the place of his lost prize. He couldn't bear the tension one more minute._

**Chapter 15**

"Sam," Castiel exclaimed. "That was the man. Follow him. He means to take someone else now."

"Are you sure?" Sam stared at the Angel.

Castiel stared back, almost daring the Hunter to not obey. "Go Sam. I assure you that I know his intention. The man is projecting pain, lust and desire. Some child will die if you do not intervene immediately."

That was it. Sam obeyed and swung the Impala around in a U-turn, squealing tires piercing the late afternoon babble of children's voices. The white pick-up disappeared around the corner almost clipping a group of children crossing the street. As Sam pulled up another large group of kids blocked his path. This was the way to the bus stop and a lot of children walked these streets.

"Damn," Sam yelled as he had to stop. The white truck was getting away.

Sam finally was able to push the car through in a break between groups of children. Looking in his rear view mirror he realized that right behind him was one of Jody's cruisers. He nudged his way forward through the crowd. A lot of the kids resented it and yelled or pounded on the sides of the car. A middle aged female crossing guard didn't like it either and she was steaming forward waving her sign aggressively.

The cop behind them grasped what was going on and hit his siren. The loud noise scared the children and the crossing guard. Once everyone stopped moving Sam tried to get through the last of the crowd but people had frozen in his way and he couldn't get through the last of them without knocking them down. Castiel decided to lend a hand and, stepping out of the car, he started moving children physically out of the way. Once Sam had a clear path he pulled up and waited for the Angel to get back in the car. Finally they were able to take off in pursuit of the truck.

About to turn the corner Sam looked into his mirror and saw that the police cruiser was almost clear also. The cop had shut the continual siren down and was now just using short burst to get the children out of his way. Finally the crossing guard understood what was happening and she started to help the cop get clear.

Sam was driving toward the bus stop now and there were dozens of children headed in the same direction. Most of them were in groups but here and there were children walking alone.

"I see him, Sam," Castiel pointed ahead. "He's at the end of the next block."

Sam looked forward. To his horror he saw that the passenger door was open. A small child was attempting to lift a wiggling puppy on to the seat. At that very instant a man's arm reached out and picked up the child by the back of his jacket. The door slammed, dog forgotten on the sidewalk, and the truck sped away with the child trapped inside.

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Jerry Bader's sweating hands slipped on the wheel. This wasn't good. This wasn't the way he wanted it to go. He had heard the cop car's siren back at the school and his heart had jumped in his throat. No, not now. They couldn't stop him now when he was so close. He glared into the rear view mirror and there wasn't anybody there. He had no idea where the black car went or why the cop wasn't behind him already but his only thought was saving the plan

He scurried down Oak towards the bus stop jerking the wheel back and forth trying to find another prize, trying to look for the best choice today. His green eyed boy had been taken away but he'd find someone else. There had to be someone else.

He drove past a group of about five little boys and one of them, in a bright blue jacket, attracted his attention. Just like the prize blue boy was out in front. He was laughing and walking backwards, talking to his friends. The kid was almost dancing into Jerry's world. Jerry pulled the truck into the crosswalk at the end of the block, jerked the handle to open the passenger door and pushed the yelping puppy out into the street.

It was a long drop for a little dog and the puppy yelped more loudly as it hit the pavement. Of course, it attracted the little boys' attention and blue boy ran ahead. The kid bent down to pick up the pup and Jerry smiled at him.

"Thanks for helping my puppy, son," the man said. "He fell out when the door came open. Can you hand him back to me?"

The little one smiled, a missing front tooth adding childish charm to his face and the little arms tried so hard to push the puppy up. Jerry leaned forward as if he was going to take the puppy but instead grabbed the kid's coat and dragged the little body into the truck. He grabbed the handle and slammed the door at the same time he hit the gas. The truck fish-tailed with the torque and Jerry was on his way.

The little boy was in a panic. He tried to pull up the handle on the door but before he could make any progress Jerry reached over the seat and grabbed the collar of the kid's jacket. Wrapping his arm around the wriggling and screaming child he powered his way along the suburban streets. Jerry knew exactly where he was going and he knew the only way he was going to win was speed and stealth.

At an intersection he cut a hard right and sped down a dim tree-lined street. It would take a little longer but he could get to the motel from here and maybe they wouldn't know where he went.

The child was crying, screaming and trying to push Jerry's arm away. This wasn't what Jerry had dreamed. He wanted the child to stay as innocent as possible until they were completely alone. With each mile this child's innocence was being stripped away. Jerry wanted to strip that innocence away with his tongue; he wanted to taste the sweetest tears and stifle the screams with his mouth.

The mere thought of the child's suffering to come made Jerry's mouth water. His shriveled, dead cinder of a soul stirred within him, revived by tears. Jerry was dead inside, had always been dead inside. His soul had never grown and the emptiness cried out to be filled with emotion. He knew nothing of love or hope. He was a vessel for lust and the death of innocence. More demon than man, he had never felt pity for any of his victims, human or beast.

He burst out of the suburban side street on to a divided highway that would take him straight to the abandoned motel in minutes. He couldn't see anyone behind him and he began to believe that he had escaped. When the child whimpered he simply dragged the little boy closer to his side and put a hand over the boy's mouth and nose. Now the child could not even breathe until Jerry decided to let him. The casual torture was like an appetizer to the main course yet to be served.

The little thrill of control distracted Jerry's attention and he didn't even notice when that black beast of a car blasted out of the side street and came after him. The first time he was aware was when it pulled up beside him and roared past. Once again the cold blue eyes of the man in the passenger seat drilled into the side of Jerry's face. Fear punched its way in to Jerry's consciousness and he involuntarily let go of the little boy to put both hands on the steering wheel. The black behemoth did more than just pass him: it swerved into his lane and Jerry stood on the brakes.

Blue boy was thrown off the seat under the dashboard of the truck and Jerry pawed for him at the same time he was stunned by the speed with which the black car's driver's door flew open and a giant of an angry man charged at him.

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Sam Winchester had followed Castiel's instructions perfectly. When the Angel said 'turn here' he obeyed immediately, without question. The kids in the backseat were in a riot but Sam blocked their noise away. The only thing he heard was Castiel's voice.

When they flew out of the neighborhood and emerged on a county highway Sam was excited to see the back end of the white truck disappear over a slight rise only a couple of hundred yards in front of him. The Impala squealed as he braked, turned and straighten in pursuit. The Impala roared and accelerated, knocking Dean and his friends back in their seats.

Sam caught up to the truck in what felt like agonizing slow motion but it was done and the Hunter swerved into the path of the oncoming truck. Later on he would realize that he was throwing the kids in his keeping into danger but in the moment he was sure this was the right thing to do.

The truck braked and the smoke from its stripped tires mixed with the smoke from the Impala's own rubber to create an illusion of swiftly dispersing fog.

Sam threw himself out of the Impala while it was still moving forward, without even stopping to turn the car off; he had slammed the car into park and launched his body at the white truck. He couldn't see the little boy but he clearly saw the monster behind the wheel.

Sam reached through the man's window and grabbed his throat. With the other hand he pulled the door open, coming close to smacking himself in the face. He stopped trying to pull the guy out through the window and changed hands, pulling the man out on to the ground. Holding on to the front of his shirt Sam threw punch after punch at the man's head. Blood flew.

Evidently Castiel had followed immediately after Sam because after about five or six punches the Angel stopped Sam's arm. Jerry Bader was only semi-conscious and bleeding freely from his mouth and nose. Sam snapped his head around and looked at Castiel. The Angel was holding the little boy in his other arm. He handed the child off to Sam.

Castiel knelt next to the man on the ground and thrust out his arm. The Angel's fingers extended and grasped the top of the man's head. As Sam watched a pure white light began to pour from the man's eyes and mouth but just then Jody's cop caught up and yelled at Sam. "Step away from the truck." The policeman had his gun out and was pointing it at Castiel.

Now it was Sam's turn to try and pulled Castiel away from the child molester. Castiel looked around angrily, not expecting to be interrupted by anyone when he was in the middle of the well-deserved smiting of a monster.

"Castiel," Sam said. "The patrolman's here. Please stop."

Castiel pulled away from Jerry Bader's unconscious form. The man was still breathing. That was a surprise but Castiel had never seen an unfinished smiting before. He didn't know the consequences.

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The other consequence that neither Castiel nor Sam expected was that of being a couple of heroes. After Jody's patrolman had checked Jerry and called an ambulance the next thing that showed up was Sioux Falls own T.V. station KLOS live news van. The van showed up at the scene before the ambulance. Sam never cared enough to find out who had alerted the news, one of Jody's cops or someone from the school

The kidnaping and recovery of a small child was going to be the biggest news item on Sioux Falls T.V. that night and when the interviewer got a look at muscular, tall and handsome Sam Winchester standing in the road next to his dark haired, blue eyed, just as handsome 'partner' visions of National Converge danced in her head.

When Sam's completely adorable son, Dean, popped out of his Dad's car, trailed by his little gang of friends it was almost too good to be real. She was close to hyperventilating and that would be extremely unprofessional. With her director back at the station yelling orders into her ear she headed straight for the heroes.

Her camera man, after months of filming county meetings and livestock shows hardly knew what to focus on first. He had his choice of the supposed child molester out cold on the ground, the arrival of the ambulance, the handsome heroes, the photogenic little boy victim who was still in Sam Winchester's arms or Sam's excitable son who was a smiling little charmer.

With the woman babbling at him and asking rapid fire questions Sam was beginning to freak. More police cruisers appeared out of thin air and the final cherry on the T.V. interviewer's cake was the arrival of the little kidnap victim's panicked parents.

Sam found out in short order that he had rescued Ronnie Youngman and Mr. and Mrs. Youngman were really grateful. Mrs. Youngman almost tried to climb him to kiss his cheek and Mr. Youngman pumped his hand so hard he felt like the man was trying to raise water. He handed Ronne to his mother and managed to disentangle himself from Mr. Youngman's over enthusiastic grasp.

Castiel touched Sam's free arm and the tall man leaned down to the Angel's lips so he could hear what the Angel had to say.

"I think we should get out of here as soon as possible, Sam." Castiel whispered although there was no need. With the amount of noise and activity in the general area he could have shouted. "This is turning in to a public spectacle. I think we should all leave."

Sam nodded and tried to gather his group together and get them back in the car. Unfortunately, in spite of his efforts, one of the patrol cars opened to disclose Sheriff Mills.

"Mr. Winchester," she called out. "Please wait."

"We are going to need to take your statement and your partner's statement regarding the incident." She said. "I also believe that you are the source of the warning we received from Bobby Singer about a potential child molester stalking the school. We really need to talk to you." She looked around at the impromptu circus that had formed around the area.

"I think it would be best for you to come down to the station as soon as possible."

Sam glanced over at Castiel and then back at the Sheriff. "We can come down in the morning, Sheriff," he answered then looked back at Castiel. "Would that work for us Cas?"

Castiel reached for Sam's arm again. 'I believe that would be fine, but right now we need to get all the children home."

The T.V. interviewer had been distracted by Mr. and Mrs. Youngman's emotional scene and while dragging all the emotional juice she could get out of the family's reunion she almost missed the Winchester's departure. Sam was already turning the engine over when the thin blonde dashed over and locked her hand on the door.

"Mr. Winchester," she gasped. "My station would love to interview you and Mr. Castiel about this incredible rescue. When can you come in to be interviewed?" she shoved her business card at Sam. "I mean on air, of course. You understand that, right?" She turned on her full power smile, the one she used every morning on the news show.

Sam stared at her, shocked silent. Castiel leaned over Sam's body, a possessive hand wrapped around Sam's shoulders. "Just let us give you a call about that, already Miss…,Powers," he finished, glancing at the glossy business card.

"Don't forget about us," she gushed with just the edge of a shark's grin behind her words. "I'll come looking for you."

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Later that night, in the jail ward of Sioux Falls General Hospital, Jerry Bader drew his last breath. He never regained consciousness after Castiel's interrupted smiting. He died alone; his mother did not even come to say good bye. He died as he lived, unloved and unmourned.

Later, at autopsy, the coroner would find evidence of a damaged heart. The coroner believed it looked as if Jerry had been electrocuted. Beside the heart, other organs also had damage that looked like burns. If the coroner had known he could have achieve fame as the first to autopsy an Angel smiting. Of course, that thought wasn't even in the realm of the possible. It was ridiculous. Of only one thing the coroner was sure. Jerry Bader did not die as a result of Sam Winchester hitting him in the face.

Jerry's soul initially felt abandoned and lost. It drifted slowly though empty rooms and deep silence. It wasn't left to wonder long however. In the distance a sound of howling broke the silence. A shiver passed through the sprit. It couldn't be attributed to cold. There was no cold or heat any more. There was only the grey, sifting silence of a curtain lifting slowly to reveal the stark face of fear.

Cerberus had sent out members of his pack to drag Jerry's soul to the river. One would have been enough. Jerry 's soul was a weak and pitiful thing, already half way to demon, not even enough to be a hellhound's chew toy, let alone any kind of a meal.

They dragged the feeble thing to hell and handed it over to the gatekeepers to decide what circle should hold it for eternity. Jerry was useless, not even material for the weakest of demons. He was only good for unending torment and providing more music for the pit.

The first circle to be considered was the Second Circle of hell, the one for Lust. In this circle the empty souls are blown back and forth forever by violent winds. Those souls were governed by their lust without thought or meaning, empty shells. In the end it is decided that this punishment was too mild for such as Jerry Bader.

It is settled that Jerry belongs to the Minotaur, guardian of the Outer Ring of the Seventh Circle of Hell, the circle reserved for the violent. These souls spend their eternity immersed in the Phlegethon, a boiling river of blood and fire. There he would stay until perhaps he repented enough of his sins to pass to Purgatory, an unlikely event as his soul was too shriveled to even know what repentance and guilt were, let alone learn to use them to progress hoping one day for forgiveness He would stay to the end of the world, when he would be judged and raised or destroyed utterly. As the King of Hell has said; "This is hell, that's what you do in hell. You wait".


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